The Butterfly
by Erik'sTrueAngel
Summary: COMPLETE! AU fic! She couldn’t stand music anymore because of him. Christine “Angel” Dallas promised she’ll never sing again until an accident sends her back as Christine Daae. Will she regain her love for music? And will she be reunited with a forgotten
1. The Accident

Rating: PG-13 (T)

Genre: Drama/Romance

Summary: AU fic! She couldn't stand music anymore because of him. Christine "Angel" Dallas promised she'll never sing again until an accident sends her back as Christine Daae. Will she regain her love for music? And will she be reunited with a forgotten love?

Disclaimer: I decided that I'm saying this once and only once! I do not own any of the characters of POTO and if I did that will be awesome! But for now, I'm just borrowing them. And all the names of celebrities and such, I'm using because it fits.

A/N: I'm back again! Thank you all who read _Lessons on Love_! I hope that you continue to read this. This one here has been my favorite to write and I hope you all like it.

Since this is an alternate universe I'll be using the same elements from the movie, but I'm going to twist them and some of the lines to make it fit in the context of the story. There will be some references to Leroux's book (though brief).

There **are** going to be the mentioning of some adult themes but I'll post warnings for those chapters, starting with this one. **Abuse** and **rape **is mentioned so **reader ye be warned**.

This is in dedication to my friend, Megan, who gave me the inspiration and for listening to me endlessly about the Phantom and my story ideas. Thanks a bunch!

The Butterfly

By: Erik'sTrueAngel

Chapter 1- The Accident

_Do not look back. Just go. Get the Hell out of here right now! _Sitting in her car, Christine shifted the Porsche into drive and sped off away from the house, away from him.

Her right side ached from the latest "punishment" her boyfriend decided she earned minutes ago. No doubt it was over her upcoming tour that she didn't want to go on. She once enjoyed the trips on the tour bus but not anymore. Now the new songs and concerts were just torture. Not once did Christine put in her heart and soul into it like she use to. What was the point? Singing became a drag, a chore that needed to be done quickly. There was no point to it after he left…

It was hard to believe that Angel was energetic on the stage and that she was deemed as the "Sexiest Woman Alive" in People Magazine. Those were merely the good times when music meant something to her. Now she went on pretending she loved it and act as if nothing's happening. And she lost her "sexiness" meaning she was rank 15 on the Top 20. _What happened to me? _She thought.

* * *

Christine Dallas aka Angel was found at 18 during a talent show in the small town of Roland, Michigan. Her father was a brilliant violinist who made a couple of records, but was not too well known in the music industry. Christine usually accompanied her father in the vocals with songs that she wrote. She dreamed of making it big as an opera singer. But her dream did come close to what she wanted. She did become famous.

Two agents from Los Angeles heard her and automatically signed her up and within a few days she was on a plane to the Golden state with a contract deal with Popular Records.

The style the company wanted her to do was hip-hop and pop mix and within a year she was competing with Britney Spears over the Pop Charts. Angel was the latest singing sensation with many devoted fans from abroad. Christine wasn't too thrilled at first with the choice of clothing she had to wear during video shoots, but eventually grew to love the scantly clad outfits. She also became accustomed to the label "sex symbol".

That fact alone made her feel honored for she never considered herself as sexy. She led a clean life- no drugs, no binge drinking, and no wild nights at the clubs. Paparazzi could never find any dirt on Angel and so they resorted to false scandals, which always backfired on them. Especially the one that Christine supposedly made a video that put Paris Hilton's to shame. But there was no evidence of a tape or the person she was "with".

There were rumors, of course, that there was a rivalry between Angel, Britney, and Christina. There was no such thing for Christine never met two incredible strong women and she looked to them for advice on fashions and teaming up for tours. But that didn't mean she never had any rivals. There was one and only one- Caroline Giuseppe "Queen CG".

Christine could hardly remember what caused this strife, but it had been present since she started. She thought it had to be back when her first album, _Angel Unleashed_, became the number one seller in the States and in Europe. Caroline always had her CDs somewhere between one and two, but fifth? Something needed to be done and the Battle of the Press began. Caroline used any interviews she got to say something bad about Christine, everything from dance moves to the choice of hairstylist and choreographer. Caroline worked for Popular Records and was their top grosser until Angel came along. Then again, that could have been it, though Christine never was for confrontations. It didn't matter what Caroline said, Christine was the stronger person to keep on going and not make up stuff about "CG". And the fact they shared agents didn't do much for the already tense relationship.

But it didn't affect her in the least, despite the urges to rip her head off at times, but Christine learned to ignore the woman's griping and make the best of it. But she was proud to say her life hadn't changed her at all.

The sudden celebrity status came not only as a surprise to her, but to her friends and family back home.

Charles Dallas was pleased with his daughter's success, but wasn't sure how to cope with her style and labels. But Christine was sure that if her mother were alive she would be proud of her accomplishments. Marie Dallas died when Christine was five in a drunk driving accident. The intoxicated driver made it out alive and it was one of the reasons why Christine refused to drink at clubs. Alcohol usually brought back memories she wished to forget and she never wanted to imagine being like that driver that killed her mother. She rather have herself hurt in an accident relating to the vile drink than destroy a family.

Her father raised her in a music environment, which helped enabled Christine to express her feelings freely. She never could live her life without a tune in it somewhere. And it even meant if she had to sing about physical love she would do it, though she never experienced anything so personal with another human being in the beginning. Christine was modest in her own way, but an irresistible one at that that drove men crazy. She enjoyed the power she had over her admiring fans that brought the company more money and pushed her towards a "Grade A" rank.

The style she was performing was hip and that's what the record company and her agents, Rick Foster and Edward Andrews, wanted from her. Christine was a bit disheartened that her career wasn't singing anything with opera or classical in it. She intended, however, to make a few recordings of her own choice with her type of music. With this being said, she did one more recording with her father before he died and one platinum record with a certain famous pianist. It seemed that whatever she sang was the golden touch that made her soar. Her fans were very supportive in both parts of her career so it was a go ahead to try other types.

Christine never allowed her money or her new life mess up her old one. Her best friend will always remain Megan Gary.

The two were friends ever since they were born. There were jokes that the two befriended each other in the womb since both their mothers were close friends as well. They shared a sisterly bond and Meg's mother, Antonia, became a second mother to Christine. Meg was completely heartbroken when Christine left, but it didn't last long.

Christine flew Meg and Antonia out to California so Meg could secure her dreams of being a choreographer (her father, however, wanted to remain in Michigan). Christine hired Meg to be her back-up dancer and she appeared in every music video and every show.

Christine was also able to pull a few strings and got Meg the dream job of the century. She became Usher's choreographer for his _Confessions _tour.

Then came Ray Chandler.

He was an old friend of Christine's that used to live next door to her. Last time she saw him was when they were thirteen and Ray was trying to join different bands as bass guitar. He moved out and the two kept in touch for a few months before the writing dwindled off.

They met up, eventually, at an after party after a Simple Plan concert. She hardly recognized him without seeing him for seven years. His short-cut golden hair now had light brown streaks with spikes. He was well built and more rugged in appearance, but still had the same darling blue-green eyes that could make any girl's knees buckle. But despite the sudden masculinity, Ray was still a boy at heart and was still quite the charmer.

Ray came out to L.A. looking for a deal and with some help on Christine's part he became one of her leading guitar players. He also managed to make a solo record with a few duets with Angel.

It wasn't until a few months later that she met _him_. She would have to be a fool not to think those past two years were the best in her life. They were in ways she never imagined. But it has been over six months since she last saw him and even said his name. She was trying to forget him, a task that proved futile. He broke her heart and for that she could never forgive him.

When he left, Ray tried to go out with her, but Christine didn't want their friendship to change. She was attracted to him when they met up, but after being in the arms of another for a long time she didn't want to be in another relationship so soon.

This went on for two months, a dark period in Christine's life. She was terribly upset with him and for the pain he caused her that Christine went on a rampage and wrote many serious and dark songs. They were all about losing lovers and one about how a girl who used her love for his body and didn't care about him. It was a way for her to release the overpowering anguish she felt. The songs were private and only a couple that was considered "clean" she released to the public. But for the most part, Christine was numb and dead when it came to music. **He **was her inspiration for the love songs that became hits and even during her depression; the harsh tunes were hits as well.

Meg grew worried about her, especially with the latest themes she was working on. So Meg sat Christine down one day and they talked about everything. Christine, in tears, explained to Meg about it and her feelings and the reasons for such dreary songs. She never saw it ending. There were no hints that there was something wrong. Their relationship was perfect. Perfect.

But the biggest topic that came up was Christine's career. It was apparent she wasn't stable enough to continue on with singing. So Christine decided enough was enough. She was going to stop.

She knew her agents and the music producers would be upset for Angel's sudden out of the blue decision, but her heart just wasn't in it anymore. She remembered one day preparing a speech to break the news to Foster and Andrews when Ray came over. Christine didn't tell her friend what she had planned and figured it was a good enough chance to tell him.

Ray was dumbfounded. He didn't take the news lightly and told her his mind right away of how stupid it was for giving up a career just over some guy. But it wasn't just "some guy". Christine knew deep down she could never forget the impact he left on her even if she tried.

Ray left the house pissed and cursing her. She thought he was overreacting. It wasn't _his _career that was ending, it was hers and the choice was hers alone to make. It wasn't until a couple of days later when her life took a turn for the worse. Ray went over to her house and a heated argument started once he entered. It was about her decision. He didn't want her to end. But he let it go, only to ask another thing of her. And the outcome was above all, the least expected from him.

Now, she knew he changed over the months when they began working together. Ray would drink all the time and occasionally smoke, both habits that disgusted Christine and she tried to get him to quit. Then he punched her. That was the first incident and the first sign.

He hit her in the jaw but thankfully it wasn't anything that required medical attention. His first excuse was that he was drunk and she forgave him. Ray wasn't normally a violent person and everyone is entitled to lose their temper once and a while, but the action still disturbed her.

And just as she thought, Ray asked her out for what had to be the hundredth time and for her hundredth rejection. Once she turned him down, he grabbed her by the arm, twisting it so badly that one pull would have broken it. He then elbowed her from behind and shoved her onto the floor. Looking at him with shock and fear, he glared down at her like she was puppy caught in an act of wrongdoing.

"I'm tired of this Christine," he sneered. "You've been mourning over this loser for far too long and its about time you got over him. Now, **we **are going out and that's final!" 

He was sober at the time. And sadly, Christine agreed for there wasn't anyone she could turn to for help. A year before her father died from a severe heart attack. She was terrified to tell anyone, even her close friends, in fear that someone would tell Ray.

Ray forced her to continue singing much to her protests. She learned quickly that it was best to submit to his wishes then suffer his wrath, which could be ignited over anything at any time.

Christine went about now living a false life. In pictures and interviews she and Ray looked so happy when deep down she was crying. There was no one for her to turn to. Her love had disappeared from the face of the Earth it seemed, leaving her in the clutches of this cruel being. Meg never suspected anything. She was completely oblivious to the uneasiness and shiftiness Christine became whenever Ray was in the same vicinity.

She thought that Mrs. Gary knew there was something was up, but couldn't understand why she hasn't approached her. Maybe she too was afraid of what Ray might do to Christine if she said something.

* * *

"I can't escape. Ever," she said aloud, speed picking up as she drove down the highway. She didn't know where she was going, but the only thing she wanted was to get far away from Ray and her depressing life.

"Why is this happening to me God?" she prayed but not expecting an answer. Everything was spinning out of control and there was nothing she could do. Christine never felt so helpless in her entire life and it just continued to grow worse.

Ray was usually smart enough to keep the beatings minimal and in places where it would be hard to see. Though she did get some cuts and bruises on her face and the invention of the cover up came in handy.

"How ironic," she mused. "Most of my songs teaches young girls to stand up to their troubles and make the very best of it, and here I am trapped." Once she said this, the overcast sky began to beat down with bitter tears.

Ray was too strong and powerful. And he's proven this almost every night when he was in the mood. Being violated made her feel worse than the beatings she got. Christine would try and forget the horrid action by imagining that _he _was there and that there was no Ray, just them, making love. Then the reality of it would hit her and all Christine wanted to do was shrivel up and die.

Sour tears began falling down her eyes as she swerved around a corner. She couldn't handle the abuse no more. When **he** left her spirit and will left as well. She hated herself for allowing Ray to control her life and she hated the world for watching her suffer. This life was a lie that she frankly fought against. Her speed became faster as the rain came down in the same pace.

"It's no use," she whispered. She closed her eyes for a second and she could almost hear his voice. His beautiful voice that would turn her into butter.

A horn blared bringing her back once more to the road. She saw the driver flick her off but ignored him. She knew she went into the other lane for a mere second and oddly enough it didn't bother her.

She turned on the radio and when she heard herself she quickly turned it off. Christine wasn't in the mood to hear herself sing.

She glanced down and for a second forgot to breathe. Lying inside the cup holder was something she thought she'd never see again. It came from him and it was a symbol of their love. The last time she saw it was-

Another horn snapped her head up and when she realized what she was heading at she slammed on her brakes. The tires screeched and then…

Silence.

TBC…

Just in case anyone is interested, I happen to love making cliffhangers and this is the first of many. –Laughs like a maniac- I hope you all like this so far. Don't forget to review! They make my day!


	2. Where Am I?

A/N: Thank you for those who review. I'm glad you like this so far. And thanks again to my beta, Megan, for doing a marvelous job. Couldn't do it without you babe! Here's Chapter 2!

Chapter 2- "Where Am I?"

"Christine? Christine!"

Her eyes slowly opened; blinded by an intense light and dark shapes hovering above her. The shapes took form of worry filled faces. She groaned and closed her eyes to open them once more to find the faces still over her.

"Christine?"

That voice sounded familiar and Christine twisted her head to look up at a pink faced, blue wide-eyed, and golden-haired girl.

"Meg?" Christine whispered.

"Girls! Back away this instant!" Another person came over Christine, which she recognized as none other than Mrs. Antonia Gary. The woman's unfeigned gray eyes gaze down at her with concern, her long braided light caramel hair fell over her shoulder. But how?

"Mrs. Gary?" she squeaked confused. The last thing she remembered before her car hit the railing was this white light that seemed to consume the vehicle and then no more.

Mrs. Gary's hand took hold of hers and pulled her up with Meg steadying the weakened Christine. She glanced down to find herself wearing a long crimson skirt with an armor-like midriff halter-top. _What the Hell…? _This wasn't right. Where was she?

The scene in front of her could be described as chaotic. A large backdrop was being cleared off the stage and this large obnoxious woman was cursing out two men who bore a striking resemblance to Christine's agents.

"These things do happen? No! These things does not happen!" she bellowed. Picking up her skirts, she stormed off screaming she's never coming back along with a rich vocabulary in Spanish.

Christine smirked at the woman's actions for it reminded her of Caroline. It's either her way or the highway. But something wasn't adding up here. What happened exactly when her car derailed?

"Sirs, I have a message from the Opera Ghost," Mrs. Gary told Andrews and Foster. "He welcomes you to his Opera house-"

"_His _Opera house?" repeated Foster, astonished at such a statement.

"And he commands that you leave Box Five empty for his use," she went on. "And that his salary is due."

_Opera house? When did either of them worked at an Opera house? _Christine turned to Meg and asked what was going on. Her best friend would know why everyone was acting strange.

"Well, La Carlotta was performing for the new managers, Messieurs Andre and Firmin, when the scene fell on top of her. It barely missed her and then you fainted!"

"I see," she replied sheepishly. "Who caused it to fall?"

"The Phantom of the Opera of course!" the blonde exclaimed.

"Phantom?"

"And it appears we lost our star! A full house Andre! We should have to refund the whole house!" Firmin shouted.

In a flash, Mrs. Gary was standing over by Christine. "Christine Daae could sing it sir."

"A chorus girl? Are you mad Madame Giry?" Andre asked.

"She's been well taught I assure you. Just let her sing."

_Sing? Daae?_

"No!" Christine cried. "I mean I… singing is not part of my life anymore."

Madame Giry regarded her strangely and after a few moments of a careful inspection her features were washed over with realization.

"The child is frightened Madame Giry. She's probably not in shape for the role of Elise," Firmin spoke. "It is too demanding for a mere pretty voice."

"Christine, you are very pale! Are you ill?" Meg asked, full of worry.

Christine ignored her friend and defiantly stared at Foster… Firmin. "I never said I couldn't do it. I'm sure I could if _I _wanted too, but it's not my life anymore. I'm sorry."

"I was mistaken Messieurs," Antoinette Giry apologized. "I forgot about Mademoiselle Daae's decision. I'm sure Carlotta will return before the performance begins. Now, come with me Christine. You look like you need some rest."

Christine meekly nodded, realizing how tired she was, and walked away with Madame Giry.

* * *

High up in the rafters, Erik watched as his plan worked perfectly. The monstrosity of a woman left after finally being pushed with so many "accidents". And just like he hoped, Antoinette suggested Christine for the part.

He knew that his Christine would no doubt replace the diva once those two fools heard her. Erik couldn't wait for the audition to begin until it all was dashed when the girl announced music wasn't part of her life.

_How can that be? She was dancing and singing moments ago before I dropped the backdrop! _He thought frantically. _Unless… no! She couldn't have known that her Angel and the Phantom are one in the same! So then why her sudden change in heart?_

"Oh Christine," he moaned. He waited for so long for the right opportunity to hand the prima donna's career over to her and it went through the roof. She couldn't have been nervous. He assured her plenty of times she was perfect and that all of Paris would weep at the sound of her angelic voice. And she was so confident and awaited for her Angel to act on his promise! He did and she pulled back so suddenly. There was no warning of her indecisiveness!

Erik couldn't believe that Antoinette, of all people, allowed her to get away with it! She never was the kind of sort that would give in to puny excuses of not performing! Antoinette knew of his dream to make Christine Daae the next star of the Opera Populaire. She knew!

He had to talk to both. He needed… no… deserved an explanation! And he didn't care from whom he got it.

With a swirl of his black cape, the Phantom was gone.

* * *

Christine stayed close behind as Mrs. Gary… Madame Giry led her to what she assumed was "her" dressing room. There were so many questions she wanted answers to, but the older woman wouldn't hear none of them just yet. She muttered something like, "he will hear" and that was all.

Christine knew she was in France definitely Paris since she was in a pretty extravagant Opera building. From the style of clothing and manner, she figured late 19th century.

Madame Giry stopped and opened a flower-printed door with the name _Christine Daae _engraved on a sign above it. She ushered her in and quickly closed it.

Christine looked around in awe. This dressing room was larger compared to what she used for shows and appearances. She never saw a reason why one person should have so much space when they're only in for a few minutes.

The room was a bit homey from the luxurious creamy white carpet to the crimson covered walls decorated with posters of previous operas done. Straight ahead was a tall and wide mirror and to the left was a vanity set. The dresser had different wooden carvings of roses and cherubs, attached to it were three narrow mirrors for her to apply make-up, fix her hair, or whatever she wished. To the right of the mirror stood a changing screen with a few dresses draped over the side and next to it a couple of racks filled with multiple costumes.

Madame Giry went behind the screen to return with a cotton nightgown and handed it to her.

"I know you're a bit confused but I'll explain everything later once you have rested. Now, there's a settee over there for you to lie on and do _not_ open the door to anyone, but myself. Is that understood?" Christine nodded and she continued. "Good. Don't worry about anything. I'll speak to him and he won't bother you."

She smiled warmly to her, which only seemed to make Christine wary.

"Thank you but who's this 'he'?" she asked but it was too late. Madame Giry left without another word.

Sighing, she scanned the room once more and decided she should make the best of the situation and be thankful she's not dead. She headed over to the changing screen when her reflection in the large mirror stopped her. It was then she realized her side was no longer hurting her.

She laid a hand where Ray had kicked her and pressed firmly. No pain. Setting the gown down on the floor, she inspected her body to find all of her cuts and bruises were gone. There was nothing to even show she was harmed. It was like she had an all-new body.

"I must be dreaming," she said to herself. "If it is then I don't want to wake up."

When she was through checking herself, Christine quickly changed into the dressing gown and lay on the comfy divan. There had to be a reason why she was sent here of all places. She knew she never had any relatives that came from France and the name Daae didn't sound familiar to her at all. Could it be a past life?

She shook her head from such nonsense. She wasn't as firm of a believer in that sort of topic like Meg was. And then there was this "Phantom" and "him" that Madame Giry mentioned. She chased away all thoughts of the coincidence of the name Phantom. It was foolish to even think of it. So what significance was this "he" to Daae? Madame Giry seemed to know something and after all she was a bit on the anxious side.

Shrugging to herself, Christine didn't think any more on it and drifted off into an easy slumber.

* * *

Erik was on his way to Christine's dressing room when he ran into Antoinette, who appeared to be waiting for him outside the girl's door.

"Erik."

"Antoinette." Erik bowed his head and crossed his arms. "Care to explain what happened or do I have to ask Christine?"

"Leave the girl be," she spoke firmly with a don't-mess-with-me tone. "She's not well."

"Of course she's not well!" Erik snapped. "Or why else would she turn down a once in a lifetime opportunity?"

"It's hard to explain _mon ami_," Antoinette said softly. "But you must refrain yourself from speaking, singing, and Heaven forbid show yourself to her."

"Why?" he demanded. "If it's my wish then you know I will do it. Besides, she'll wonder why her Angel hadn't appear yet."

"Erik, I'm afraid she won't." At his baffled façade, she elaborated. "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but that is not _our _Christine. She may look like her and even sing like her but it's not her. I can't explain how I know this, but when I looked into her eyes I just knew. They weren't her usual cheery glow, but more dark and subtle sadness. Oh Erik, I know something happened to her and she doesn't need you telling her what to do as her Angel of Music. For all she knows, you don't exist. She needs to be left alone."

Erik couldn't believe what his friend was revealing to him. Not Christine? Not _his _Christine?

"Madame if she's not Christine, then where is Christine?"

"I do not know. Just please do this one thing for me Erik. I assure you that's all I'll ask of you. I'm sure Christine will make her appearance but until then you have to make yourself scarce. Have faith, my friend, she'll come back."

"Faith?" he scoffed. "You know me better than that, but I will comply with your wishes Madame. I shall not bother her, you have my word as a gentleman."

Relief spread throughout her weary features and smiled graciously at him. She knew this would be hard for him, but at least she knows that Christine won't suffer his wrath.

"Thank you Erik," she spoke to the retreating shadow and sighed. She was needed back at rehearsals and those girls wouldn't dance unless someone told them too.

* * *

A few hours later, Christine knew she was being watched. Who, she wasn't sure but it despite it being disturbing it was rather comforting. Still "sleeping" she rolled over to her side and peek through her eyelids. It was a trick she picked up from… him and it's difficult to do. You still have to remain in a state of sleep and awareness and slightly open them without anyone seeing. From what she could see there was no one in the room.

She fully opened her eyes and stretched her arms while scanning the room thoroughly. She was a light sleeper and she could easily hear what's going on. But her door never opened so she still appeared to be alone, despite the feeling of another presence. She vaguely recalled a heated discussion outside but was so tired that she didn't hear all of it. She recognized Madame Giry's voice and the other was more manly, but that was the only time she fell into a deep unconsciousness before waking once more to only fall back into a light stupor.

"Too many horror movies for you girl," she joked nervously to herself. She got up and went behind the screen. She found a dark gray dress and slipped it on. She didn't bother with the corset. "There's no way I'm wearing that," she muttered as she walked out tying the laces in back together.

The dress was comfortable but Christine never liked wearing anything that was formal until the time was called for. _Give me a pair of jeans and a tank top any day_, she thought as she stop to admire herself in the mirror.

It was apparent that she and Daae had similar shapes so finding outfits to wear wouldn't be a problem. But Christine preferred the comforts of moving around easily without feeling so encased with fabric. _Maybe I could change all that._

Christine touched her face and almost squealed for joy at the undeniable smoothness she felt. No bumps, no cuts, no nothing! Just smooth flesh on flesh. Oh how she missed that!

Tears began to prick in her doe brown eyes and for a second she forgot about her predicament. She wasn't the same Christine Dallas anymore; she was now Christine Daae untouched by the cruelties of the world.

Feeling giddy, she twirled around and stopped abruptly at what she saw on the vanity. She stared at the object, not expecting to see it ever again. _This has to be a prank! _She thought wildly. _It wasn't there before…_

Her eyes darted around and she was positive there were no signs of force entry into this room. Swallowing hard, Christine cautiously walked over and picked up the delicate silver chain. Streaming down were icy blue crystals on the chain that led to the center- a small silver butterfly with a large matching blue crystal for a body with little spots of blue outlining its wings. The antennas were curved inward almost making a miniature heart.

Christine's breathing stopped as she gazed at the necklace. It was with her before she crashed. The last time she seen it was also the last time she worn it, which was the night before he left. It wasn't until after she began dating Ray when she vowed she would never wear it again. It brought back too many glorious and painful memories.

She must have left it in the Porsche all that time when she saw it in the vehicle. It seemed likely, since she hardly drove it. But how did it end up here with her?

"This doesn't make any sense," she murmured aloud.

She examined the necklace once more and there was no question in her mind that it was hers. _Maybe Madame Giry put it here while I was sleeping, but I would have heard her…_

Shaking her head, she wondered what she should do with it. _Put it on_, a voice in her head whispered.

"No," she stated firmly and then thought how ridiculous she was behaving. "Here I am talking to myself. I must be losing my mind after all."

No longer wanting to see it, Christine opened one of the drawers and dropped it in. _There. I feel a little bit better. _And she did.

The door swung opened and Madame Giry hustled in quickly. She closed it, making sure it was secured, and faced the startled Christine.

"I'm glad to see that you're up." Her voice was pleasant and very warm, much like Antonia Gary's. "I hope you had enough rest."

Christine nodded. "Yes I did. I haven't gotten a good nap in for a long time since… well I shouldn't have to worry about it now. I guess I owe you an apology for humiliating you in front of Andrews and Foster, I mean Andre and Firmin."

The woman chuckled. "That's quite all right…"

"Christine. Christine Dallas or Angel. That's what I'm known as." She smiled. "Thank you for everything."

"There's no need to thank me, child. I look to Christine Daae as a daughter and you two **do** look so much alike."

Christine bit her lower lip and berated herself that this woman's kindness wasn't just out of pity but for the actual Christine. _Idiot._

"Do you know how you came to be here?" Madame Giry asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Her ebony head shook. "To be honest no. The last thing I remember was driving in my car and I was heading towards a rail and then I blacked out. Then bam! I'm here."

"Oh." The ballet instructor wasn't sure what to make from this, but nodded for her to continue.

"That's it really. I don't know where I was going, though I think I was going to my friend's house. But it's a bit foggy."

Antoinette nodded sympathetically and sat on the settee, beckoning Christine to join her. She did and looked to the ground.

"So, um, what year is it? I figured around 1880s or something."

"1870 to be exact. And judging from what you've told me you're from what's to come, right?"

She nodded. "2005, 21st century. So if I happen to say something you don't get, then don't mind it. It'll take a while for me to adjust to this whole thing." Antoinette smiled at her for her opened honesty. Though, the real Christine Daae would never be so outspoken like this young woman apparently was.

Both sat as an uneasy silence passed over them until Christine spoke:

"What was she like? Christine Daae."

Madame Giry blinked and a small smile formed on her weathered lips. "She's something of a prodigy. Her father, Gustav Daae, was a famous Swedish violinist who sadly died when she was seven. I brought her here as guardian and this is where Christine spent her life basically living and training in the ballet dormitories. She's a very close friend to my daughter, Meg, whom I see you made her acquaintance."

"She looks like my friend, Meg. Everyone here reminds me of someone in my life in the future. You, Meg, the managers, and even Carlotta."

"You poor thing!"

Christine laughed. "It's no big deal. We're rivals in the music scene. We both sing pop and we share the same agents. But you never answered me when I asked about this 'he' you talked about. He must have some importance to her life."

"Indeed he does. He's her… singing tutor. A genius whose been coaching her for some time so she can reach her highest potential."

"Wow. I never had a coach like that. It's funny how similar Christine is to me, except my father taught me to sing and he died about a year ago. He used to play the violin as well."

"You were close to him," informed Madame Giry.

"How'd you know?"

"Christine was the same way. She loved him dearly. As do you. I can tell in your eyes."

"I suppose nothing bypasses you. Mrs. Gary was the same way. Used to bug Meg and me all the time. No offense!"

"None taken."

"So do I have to worry about this tutor?"

"No. I've talked to him and he understands if you're not feeling well then to take as much time off until you are well," she said.

"That's awful kind of him. But Madame Giry, I hate to be burden and all but I wasn't kidding when I said I gave up singing. I don't have the spirit like I used too and-"

"Consider it done. But word to the wise, do not tell anyone who you are. They might not take it, as easily I am, especially Meg. Just please try and not speak to her of your true origins. I'm afraid she might not understand this. The managers might be upset but they can't force you if you're ill and that's what we should tell everyone."

"Thank you," Christine softly replied. "Maybe my stay won't be so long."

"Well, if there's one thing I believe and Christine Daae does as well is that everything happens for a reason. And it's up to you to find it. Now come. I'll show you around and then if you wish you can be with the other girls, though Christine _did _keep to herself."

Nodding, Christine got up and followed Madame Giry out the room.

Unbeknownst to them, was that they were being watched.

TBC…


	3. Hannibal

A/N: I'm glad everyone likes this so far. As I said before this has been fun writing it and it's one of the best pieces I've done so far.

Chapter 3- Hannibal

As soon as the women left, the mirror slid open and a tall shadowy figure stepped from one world into the next.

Erik heard everything and nothing. He spent the entire time, while Christine was sleeping, watching over her like an Angel. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the strange beauty. She was the exact duplicate of his beloved and everything that dear Antoinette told him, completely left his mind. For when he gaze at the sleeping form of the soprano all his mind could comprehend was that this was Christine Daae and not another.

It caused him to further believe in his theory when she woke. She _sensed _him, a trait that only his Christine could have.

And her chaste appearance!

From her unruly, raven tresses to the creamy white milky skin and those delicious chocolate orbs, she was the same girl he fell in love with. But there was one minor detail that played false to his analysis- her sadden eyes.

They were so much deeper with incredible mourning within their brown depths. What could possibly make this Angel sad?

She did say her father died a year ago. _A year ago…_

The wound is recent and not quite as healed as his Christine's was after nine years. But there had to be more to make her so depress. What, he did not know nor did she reveal to Madame Giry. Maybe in time she will if not the good Madame, then the "little" Giry girl perhaps.

He closed his eyes and heavily breathed in her scent. The aroma of wild lavenders greeted his nostrils and all coherent thought fled. She even smelled like Christine Daae!

Erik found himself drawn to her like a moth to an everlasting flame despite the true identity of this Christine Dallas, she was in every way the Christine Daae he known and loved. He made a vow that he will continue to watch over her, but not be seen, and maybe she could help lead him to his Christine or (if it might be) become his wife.

He turned on his heel to leave when the corner of his eye caught the slightly opened drawer on the vanity. He couldn't see her expression at the time, but there was something in there that caused her stressed. Curious, his slender fingers gently pulled the drawer out and dipped his hand inside to find a beautiful piece of jewelry.

Why would she toss this away like that? Surely she must have mistaken it as something worthless.

Whatever her reason, he thought it best not to interfere and so Erik put the necklace back, closed the drawer, and once more returned into the never-ending darkness.

* * *

By the time the tour was over, the performance was to begin shortly. Christine thought the Opera Populaire was fantastic. The architecture was mind boggling and elegant in its environment. It was obvious the architect took great care in every intricate design and color.

Carlotta returned, sadly, to sing for her audience and not the managers. Messieurs Andre and Firmin were relieved that she had come back and the show could still go on.

Madame Giry had the ballet practice once more before the crowds came. Christine watched from the wings as Meg danced wonderfully and gracefully to make up for the dreadful clumsy chorus girls.

"One two three, one two three," Christine counted softly to herself as the music controlled the dancers swift movements. A few times she caught herself mimicking some minor steps and stopped.

_You don't dance anymore. So stop it! Ray is not here to force you to do anything and here's your chance to have the needed break! _Her mind scolded her. But it didn't stop the longing to be on the stage with the others. _Where is this coming from? _She thought. _Before I never cared and now all I want to do is dance. Christine, quit it. Think about before. Think about what **he'd **done_. She closed her eyes and saw brief flashes of his beautiful face that stripped all other thoughts away of joining in.

It was her only way for her to gain control of herself by allowing some distant, but pleasurable memory resurface to squash any emotion of being center stage. Though, Christine could admit that there was something about this place, this _particular _atmosphere of the busy opera house that drove her music senses crazy. Music and gaiety was around every corner that it was hard to deny your inner passions. She felt it during her tour with Madame Giry and when she was alone in her dressing room for the short period of time. This building was dangerous to her health if she wished to remain out of the festivities. That is, if she can find the strength to resist the bliss that music could only bring to her soul.

Christine felt Madame Giry's eyes bore into her and she turned to smile, reassuring she was fine. Despite the predicament she was in, Christine was making the best of it. Though she could do without the itchy material of her dress.

She left the stage and began wandering the halls, familiarizing herself with the terrain. The opera continued to play and she grimaced as Carlotta began singing her aria. One thing for certain was that the prima donna wasn't gentle on the ears.

"Damn dress," she muttered, stopping to pull up the sleeves so her skin could breathe. _Since I'm staying here, I should try and make myself some real clothes._

Fashion was Christine's next favorite pastime and she usually designed her own outfits during her tours. She knew how to work any fabric so making pants wouldn't be a problem. She would see this as a double life like in the superhero movies. Christine Daae by day and Christine Dallas by night. No one would know about it and it would help keep some of her sanity intact.

From what Madame Giry told her, Daae was simplistic and charming like any young girl before they become corrupted. But not her. She had a heart of gold and hardly held grudges or poke fun at anyone or cause mayhem. Daae was _very _modest. She detested all the revealing costumes she had to wear during any performances.

Now, Christine Dallas is far from being innocent as Daae. When she was younger she never was comfortable about showing any skin, but that all changed when she became Angel. Her life and career was all about sex appeal and she pulled it off like an ace. Meg used to say, "If you got the body, then be proud and show it off!" And she did.

Christine worked out all the time so there was no need to hire a personal trainer. She had a good built, a taut and flat stomach, with the arms and legs of a Goddess. She loved to wear clothes that showed her curves and whatnot when she wasn't covered in bruises.

Though, Daae was in every way, the cliché of the girl next door. She had promising talent as a chorus girl and the naivety of a child, a detail not at all found in Christine Dallas. She has been around the block too many times for her taste.

But she was going to be true to Daae. She admired the girl's independency by continuing her life when her father died, especially when she was so much younger than Christine Dallas, and not taking part in the simple-minded and idiotic play of the ballet rats. She kept to herself and to Christine; Daae had a quiet sense of strength that many would deem as no importance. And she would continue that.

Her acting skills were mediocre apart from the cameo appearances she made on some television shows. But she managed to wing it. So far no one seemed to notice the difference so it helped improve her confidence. She felt good for once. She had no burdens or worries about her old life and there was no Ray Chandler in sight to hurt her. But it didn't prevent her homesickness for Meg, Mrs. Gary, and her deceased father. She wanted the real deal, not some coincidental look-alike. But beggars can't be choosers.

She stopped at her dressing room when she heard a faint sonorous voice singing. The melody was hauntingly sad that the singer seemed to convey his entire being into the words. But as soon as it started it was over and Christine found herself retracing her steps to find the mysterious singer but to no avail. She was alone.

_Maybe it was the Phantom_. She laughed aloud and shook her head. _Phantoms don't exist._

"Christine! Could you come and help me fix my hair?" Meg came running up to her and grabbed her hand. "Come on! Maman told me you weren't going to perform at the moment and that you could use Box Five to sit at for tonight. The usual occupant is not attending."

"Isn't that the Ghost's?" she asked, recalling Madame Giry's earlier words to the managers.

Meg nodded. "Yes but you should have no trouble. Maman corresponds with him. She delivers his notes to the managers and is Box Five's box keeper. He left a note saying he will not go to the show on account that he cannot bear to spend another evening listening to that snobbish of a woman sing. You're lucky Christine. I would love to sit there and see if the Phantom makes an appearance."

"Meg, I highly doubt it."

Within the walls, Erik heard the conversation and smiled. He wasn't really missing the performance. He just wasn't going to sit in his usual seat that's all. At least his box is in good hands with Christine. He hoped that this would help renew her passion for music. Erik knew it was a long shot, but if she's anything like his Christine, her soul will call for it and he will answer.

* * *

_Hannibal _was about to begin while Antoinette made sure that Christine was situated. She didn't like the idea of Erik giving his box up like this, but thought it best not to say anything. She had a feeling he was up to something, but what he was after she did not know and knowing him it probably wasn't anything good. Though, Erik always held a soft spot for Christine and maybe with this girl he was only doing the same to keep his battered mind together. Still, she didn't like it.

"Now, child, if you need anything or anything happens then don't hesitate and leave."

"Aren't you staying? You have a wonderful view of below," Christine remarked.

The ballet mistress shook her head. "I'm needed down at the stage. Those girls need strict discipline and I know they're not warming up if I'm not there."

"All right. I understand. Um, Madame Giry?"

"Yes?"

"Does Christine believe in this so-called Opera Ghost?"

An amused grin tugged on her lips. "No, I don't believe she does."

Christine let out a sigh of relief. "Good. I don't think I could pretend I do. Wish Meg luck for me!"

Antoinette nodded and left silently, leaving Christine to herself.

Christine decided to wear a dark navy blue gown that cut low in the front, but not too much. The sleeves went down to her elbow and lingered down with white lace. Christine let her hair down and put in a few matching barrettes to pull back the sides so her curls wouldn't get in her face. She still the held the picture of modesty and the slightest sense of womanly pride. No corset was underneath since she already had a small waistline and no one seemed to notice the difference. _Goes to show you can get away without the whalebone_, she thought gleefully.

She heard that the new patron, the Vicomte de Chagny, was also attending the opera. Christine had yet to meet him let alone see him. She pictured a short, heavily overweight older man with a face covered in wrinkles and pimples and thin wisps of snowy white hair. She scanned the crowd looking for any possible candidates and then up to the managers' box where he was supposed to sit. So far the mysterious Vicomte hasn't appeared. _He could be sick or simply forgot. Most likely he did._

The loud voices that filled the area fell to a murmur as the crimson curtain rose and the show went underway.

Christine leaned back in her seat and watched with great interest. She had her fair share of musicals and some opera viewings, but this was amazing. From rehearsals it looked more like a mess than an actual professional production. But it came together nicely, despite the screeching La Carlotta.

Halfway through Act II, Christine was completely absorbed in the performance that she began to absent-minded hum along to the music. It wasn't until the beginning of the third Act when she realized she wasn't alone any more. Chills went down her spine, and trying to remain cool, she turned her head to look around. To her dismay, she was the only person in the box. _Damn overreacting imagination_, she scolded herself.

She returned her attention to the stage as Carlotta began to sing Elise's aria, but it didn't last long. Once more, those chills arose and this time she could _hear_ the ragged breathing of another. _There's no one there. There's no one there_, she kept repeating over and over.

As soon as the back of her neck felt a warm breath washing over, she clutched the armrests willing her trembling body to cease. She tried focusing on the song, hoping this would ease the foreboding fear that was rapidly coursing through her skin. Sweat gathered at her temples but she dared not turn around to see whom it was that was hovering behind her. The breathing came in short gasps, almost pain like but she did not give into her overwhelming erratic mind's whims to run as fast as she can.

Then so torturously slow, the goose bumps that crept across her back, moved up to her right ear, the skin being tickled by the ghostly panting.

"You cannot forget the music."

Christine let out a shrill shriek and whirled around to come face-to-face with a giggling Meg.

"Oh Christine! You should have seen your face!" she laughed.

"That was _not _funny Meg," Christine growled, her porcelain face adopting a new crimson hue. "Were you trying to give me a heart attack!"

"No. I couldn't help it." The blonde plopped down in the seat next to her and gaze at the stage. "Wow! Now I know why the Opera Ghost likes it here," she commented. She turned towards her friend, smirking. "Has he shown up yet?"

"Aren't you supposed to be down there?" the brunette snorted.

"Not yet. This is Carlotta's spotlight," Meg answered. "I can spare a few minutes to be here with you. Maman doesn't know I'm here and besides she'll never lets me come into this box. This is my only opportunity thanks to you, _ma amie_."

"She probably had her reasons," she muttered. "For your information the 'Phantom' never granted me with his grace. Meg, darling, ghosts don't exist and neither does your Phantom."

"Christine! Hush or you'll anger him!" Meg scolded. "He does too exist! And if he doesn't, then how does your Angel exist?"

"Angel?" Daae has an angel? Christine never believed in the supernatural, but she did believe in miracles and angels. How else can certain situations be explained? She wondered. Daae must share the same belief as her and maybe her "Angel" is her father, looking out for her. It's a sweet thought.

"Angels are easy to believe in. They do things in mysterious ways. Why would a spirit spend its time scaring the living when there's much good for them to do?"

Meg shrugged. "Well, I believe in him." She grinned. "So have you seen the Vicomte? I know you were a bit upset when he didn't recognize you. But once you two speak, I'm sure, he'll remember. Who can forget their 'childhood sweetheart'?"

"Oh." What could she say? Apparently the Vicomte isn't an old man like she thought.

"He's sitting with the managers," Meg added. "There he is!"

Christine looked to where Meg was pointing and squinted to get a better look. There was Andre and Firmin and next to them was obviously a younger man, around Christine's age. It was too dark to make out his features, but all she could see from the ill lighted candles, was his shoulder-length flaxen locks.

"He's going to be at the gala afterwards. You can talk to him then," the ballet dancer said. "Oh! I have to get ready. Bye Christine. Happy hauntings."

Christine rolled her eyes. "Bye Meg."

She didn't watch her leave and settled back into the comfortable chaise. She continued to stare at the patron. _Why do I have the strangest feeling I know him from somewhere?_

* * *

Erik was lucky that the Giry girl came in the way she did, otherwise he wouldn't know how to explain his presence being there to Christine. _Well, it's not like she can see me now_, he thought grimly, referring to his well-hidden abilities in the darkest of shadows.

Simply observing her actions made him more determine to give her the music back. Just as he predicted, her soul was already calling for it and he could hear its pleas. He was the only person who could bring it back.

He had clenched his fists when the girls talked about the Vicomte. It was all news to him that the boy and Christine had a history. And it did not suit him well.

_Of course the boy will remember her. Who couldn't forget an angel such as Christine? _he thought bitterly.

But his own selfish needs hoped that in this case, he would have no recollection so he could have his way. But if, Heaven forbid, something should spark, Erik knew he would surely die.

Erik wasn't quite ready to lose her to a foolish aristocrat and he will put up a fight for her until he draws his last breath. There was no question about it.

* * *

Christine made her way through the crowds searching for Meg. The opera was splendid, but she could have done without Carlotta. A hand grabbed hers and Meg began tugging Christine to another direction.

"Follow me! I found him!"

_Him? Who's him? _Christine wondered, and then mentally slapped herself. _Oh yeah. The childhood sweetheart_.

She didn't know why she was feeling so bitter towards this boy. So, Daae had a childhood sweetheart? What did she care? Christine, herself, never had one and she wouldn't consider Ray under that label. But Meg was being so insisted that she see him. So the guy didn't remember Daae… apparently he isn't much to sought after if he can't remember an old friend. But this was Daae's life and not her own, which she had to remind herself.

So if talking to this guy for a few minutes is what Daae wanted, then she'll be more than happy to.

They were making their way when Christine suddenly paled when she caught sight of the Vicomte. She stared, wide-eyed, at none other than Ray Chandler. Or at least the face of Ray. _No! Oh God no! Anything but this!_

"Christine?" Meg questioningly looked at her friend. "Is everything all right?"

Christine didn't say anything. Her voice wasn't working at the moment and if it did she wasn't sure what to say. _"Oh yes, the Vicomte? Well, guess what Meg dearest, he's my abusive boyfriend from the future. That's right I'm not Christine Daae." _Is that what she should say? No, she thought wryly. But seeing _him _after she just left him filled Christine with dread and undeniable hatred.

And he was in every way, the exact pigment of Ray down to the boyish charms she once adored to his aquamarine eyes that lit up whenever he greeted someone. _The two-timing bastard_, she thought angrily. _Why must Daae know you? Why couldn't you be fat, old, and ugly?_

At her silence, Meg shrugged and quickly strode over to the Vicomte. By the time Christine realized her friend's disappearance, the Vicomte raised his up and looked straight at her.

Christine's sudden malevolence drained away and replaced by panic. Her legs went numb and as he began moving towards her, Christine amazingly found the control she needed and ran off. _Please! Don't let him follow me!_

There was no way she was going to let him trick her twice. She had enough of him and his "charms" for the past several months of Hell that she secretly wished the floors would open up and its fiery pull will take Ray or the Vicomte away for good. She quickened her pace trying hard not to let her panic arise in her visage. If she made one slip then all will be lost, but she will not stop and chat with him. _To Hell to her old love. It would never work out and if it did then she would wish it didn't._

"Christine!" a voice called out. It sounded like Ray, but she knew it was the Vicomte.

"CHRISTINE!"

She ignored him, running blindly now, until she found herself at a dead end. Christine pressed herself against the wall, tears streaming down her pallid face. "No!" she moaned and before she could realize what was happening, the wall spun taking her with it.

Christine found herself in a dark, cold passage but none of it seemed to bother her. At least she was safe from him for the time being.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she turned around and found a tiny peephole. She bent a bit to look through and watched a confused Vicomte running past with Meg at his heels.

_That was a close one_, she thought. "Thank you. Whoever Daae's angel is, I'm glad you're on my side as well."

When the coast was cleared, Christine pushed on the wall again to take her back to the other side.

* * *

Erik had his breath held the entire time. Christine stood in the same vicinity as him, a fact Erik never thought possible to happen! He exhaled happily as her rose scent overwhelmed his senses. It could only be described as the smell of Heaven that Christine could procure in the darkest of places.

Erik stepped forward and once he was able to focus and looked through the same hole just as Christine's back disappeared around a corner. She was obviously running from something, but what? He wondered.

"Such an interesting creature," he murmured. There was so much more to the girl that Erik never suspected one to possess.

His stance stiffened when the new patron came into view with young Giry beside him.

"Where could have she gone?" he asked, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Is she ill?"

"No, Monsieur. Though, earlier today she did have a fainting spell, but she is fine I assure you! I do not understand why she ran. She was looking forward in seeing you."

"Perhaps. If you see her then tell her I do remember Little Lotte and the house by the sea," he spoke softly with a tinge of sadness. "I'll be back later."

They both left leaving Erik to his utmost joy. So that's why she ran off! He _does _have a chance with Christine now that it appears she doesn't like the Vicomte!

He wanted to go on his knees and pray, but restrained himself from allowing such an act. Erik didn't believe in God, for why should he follow a being that had shown him nothing but revolt and cruelty?

Erik placed a hand on the cool surface and in a hush whisper, he vowed:

"Don't worry Christine. I'll make sure the Vicomte won't bother you."

TBC…


	4. Ghost Stories

Disclaimer: I do not own the brief little telling of _The Grudge_.

A/N: Hi everyone! School is out tomorrow and the last of Finals! Yea! I'm going on vacation next week and updates are going to be a bit slow. To make it up I give you this chapter and the one-shot _The Wife_. I hope you would all check it out and review. Also, I hate to bring this up, but I noticed that I have quite a few people on my alert list and when I update I get about 5 reviews a chapter. I know there has to be more reading this and I would really appreciate it if you drop a line and tell me your thoughts. It doesn't have to be long, it could just say "good" and that's fine. Thank you.

Chapter 4- Ghost Stories

Christine eventually caught up with Meg later that night, once she was sure the Vicomte wasn't in sight. Meg was glad to see her but at a loss for words for her sudden disappearance.

"Didn't you want to speak to him? He recognized you Christine! He wanted so badly to see you once more! Why did you take off?"

Christine lowered her head while shifting about nervously. "I… I… it was overwhelming. After all these years…"

Meg nodded slightly, though Christine couldn't tell if she agreed or not. "Well, don't take off again. It hurt his feelings and it's unlike you."

Christine winced. "I won't."

The night went on and the number of guests began to leave. Antoinette, Meg, and Christine headed back to the dormitories. Inside, they could hear Joseph Buquet's gruff voice telling the tale of the Opera Ghost.

"Like yellow parchment is his skin. A great big black hole serves as the nose that never grew," the Chief of the Flies spoke in a grave volume.

Christine and Meg wandered over to their beds while listening to the stagehand's story. The first thing Christine noticed about him was his horrendous stench of booze, smoke, and body odor radiating off the filthy stout man. Madame Giry told her to be wary of Buquet since he's well known to throw himself over the young girls if they're alone. He was a drunk and a complete disgrace to the human race, but a hard worker in the Opera Populaire.

The other mindless dancers were in awe over him since he was the only person who "seen" the Ghost's face and lived. Christine rolled her eyes at the gasps and shrieks of the _corps de ballet_, entranced with such an indubitably farce. She was about to say something to Meg, but stopped at the glaze over expression of wonder and terror written over the blonde's face.

_I must be the only sane person here_, she thought. Christine poked Meg in the ribs and whispered, "This is so farfetched Meg. How can anyone survive with a 'dead head' without getting an infection from the exposed flesh?"

"Black magic," she replied, not looking at the annoyed brunette.

"You must be always on your guard. Or he'll catch you with his magical lasso!" And in a flash, Buquet captured one of the girls in a noose, who began giggling uncontrollably at her "predicament".

Not far, Antoinette watched the entire scene and made a face. This has gone on far too long.

She marched over, releasing the girl, her gray eyes scanning the mass in an unapproved stern look before settling on the portly stagehand.

"Those who speak of what they know, find to late that prudent silence is wise," she spoke in a solemn tone. "Joseph Buquet hold your tongue!"

And with that, the ballet instructor slapped him hard across his face. "Keep your hand at the level of your eyes!" She took his noose and thrown it over his own throat, tightening the knot to express her point.

She returned to the girls, glaring at each and every one while Buquet struggled to free himself.

"If you wish not to anger him than refrain yourselves from childish curiosities!" she snapped. Antoinette turned and quietly left the room, slamming the door behind. No sound was made except for the cursing coming from the ignorant stagehand.

"Crazy wench," he mumbled after he managed to rid the knot from the lasso. "I've seen his monstrosity and lived! It's best for you to know what's lurking behind these walls at night."

"D-do you think he's here right now?" asked one of the quivering dancers.

"What if he's furious? I can't die yet!" came another.

The girls voices raised in worry and fear that Christine found it hard not to laugh at their silly behavior.

"And what's so funny Christine Daae?" one sneered. "Since you don't believe in him then you might be his first victim!"

"I like to see that happen," she retorted. "Though all of this is crazy. Your Phantom doesn't exist and that's final. It's all ravings of a drunkard."

"A nonbeliever then missy?" Buquet asked. "You don't find my tale to your liking?"

"No I don't." She crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not even scary."

"And do _you _know a tale that's worse than Buquet's?"

"As a matter of fact, I know plenty that will keep you up for days." Christine smiled devilishly.

"Christine, what's going on in your head?" Meg hissed. "You don't know such stories."

"But I do. One that puts the Phantom to shame."

"Go ahead and tell us. Make us quiver in our boots," Buquet challenged.

"All right. Sit and gather around and I promise this will sate your thirst for horror of the unknown. I heard this from a source who swears on their honor is true. Now this is not for the weak at heart so if anyone-"

"Just get on with it!" "Yeah!"

"Your call. This happened in a city far from here where a horrific crime took place years ago. Two murders and a suicide done by a deranged husband. He drowned his only son and suffocated his wife before hanging himself. The reason no one knew but the family, who sadly was buried six feet under. Now to anyone this was just a terrible misfortune and nothing more. But there's a legend that says, 'When one is killed by an act of violence at the breech of a temper, they leave a curse behind on the building where it took place.' And that's where our story begins…"

As she went on, the girls scurried over around her bed while Buquet joined them. The story got them hooked as Christine smirked to herself. _Now this will be the scariest tale they will ever hear._

* * *

"And Karen look down at the body of her dead boyfriend and imagined her under the sheet instead. Why did she had to live and not him? He was so innocent but her mind and heart stopped when the familiar haunting croak came from behind."

The faces of everyone were open, eyes wide in fright. Sometime during the story they all huddled together, especially Buquet who couldn't stop shaking.

Just like she predicted, Christine's retelling of _The Grudge _freaked them all out. She kept it to the time period to avoid any confusion and any suspicions, but the reactions were what she was hoping for. And it was worth it. Screams were frequent when she went into detail of the deaths and when Christine did her best imitation of the croaking. Even Meg was scared out of her wits! _Just like back at home, _she thought wryly.

"What happened to Karen? Did she die?" a girl, Odette, asked.

Christine shrugged. "I'm not sure. What do you think?"

"I think she did," spoke a few dancers. Some disagreed.

"You don't think the Phantom is some curse left behind?" came the tiny squeak of Joseph Buquet, whose red face had turned into a ghastly white.

The brunette shook her head. "If he was then we'll all be dead by now."

Antoinette chose that moment to enter and narrowed her gray eyes at the still waken girls and mostly at Buquet.

"Lights off or rehearsals tomorrow morning will start at five," she snapped, ushering the still-frightened stagehand out and leaving the girls alone.

Christine got up from her bed and began pulling the covers off when Meg sat down at the foot.

"Where have you heard that story? I can't imagine you making up such a horrific tale," she spoke softly.

"Um, I overheard it somewhere," Christine answered. "I didn't scare you too much did I?"

"Oh no! I was only curious that's all…" Meg's voice trailed off. She lifted herself up and murmured a "Good night" before walking to her bed on the other side of Christine's.

Christine shrugged Meg's question off and dip under the sheets, quickly noting Meg checking under her bed sheets before doing the same.

* * *

_Get yourself together you fool! It was only a story! _

Erik was still trembling over the story Christine finished telling. He never was capable of being scared easy, but the storyteller had changed it all for him that his normal comfortable darkness made Erik wary.

He wanted to stick close by the dancers so he wouldn't be alone for the night, but called himself foolish and trudged back to his lair. _It was only a story. It's not real._

"Just a concoction of a wild imagination!" he cried into the lonely path. But it still didn't make him feel better. If only, it just made him more paranoid.

Feeling around for a match, Erik strikes it and looked behind to assure himself he was alone. A blast of cold wind rushed at him, putting out the little flame.

"Damn," he muttered, as he once more went through his pocket for another. Grabbing tightly to it, he struck against the wall to produce another spark. Staring intently into the shadows, he found himself relaxing a bit. _I'm the only one other than Antoinette who knows this path. I'm safe. I'm safe, I'm-_

His train of thought was broken off as his night-vision eyes caught an outline of a figure darting away, a scuffling of feet running down the twisted corridors towards the dorms.

_Christine_, he thought before dubbing the fire out and chasing the shadow. Adrenaline flooded through his lithe body, the blood in his ears pounding at an erratic beat as his thoughts focused solely on the object of his desire and the old familiar thrill of a kill coming soon took over his senses. How long since it been since he had ended a life of a breathing human being? Five? Ten years? He lost count when Christine walked into his life when she was but a child of seven years begging for the coming of her Angel.

As he drew near, a wild notion popped in his mind. _What if it's a ghost of someone I killed? Did I kill anyone here? Did I? _

By the time he approached the rooms, his steps let up and his breathing return to normal as everyone was accounted for in their cozy beds, dreaming the night away. Or some were. The others faces were distorted in horror and whimpers of a dreadful nightmare.

Erik scrutinized the room until he was satisfied that there was no danger awaiting the tired girls. His questing blue orbs found the sleeping form of Christine, whose face was scrunched up in a restless dream. A soft cry slip from her rosy lips and concern arose in his heart.

When Christine Daae was a young girl, she was often plagued of horrible nightmares mostly about her father's death. Erik quickly found a remedy to her sleeping problems by singing lullabies to her until it passed. But despite appearances, this Christine was different from his own and knew not what troubled her. He assumed it had to be about her father. After all didn't she not tell Antoinette he died about a year ago?

Erik left for a moment only to remerge through the door. Silently, he made his way over to Christine's bed, who was wrapped up in her dream. His gloved hand went out to gently caress her cheek and lower to trace her jaw. The touch caused her body to jump, but not to awaken her. Biting his tongue, Erik knew he had to be careful. If she woke… He didn't want to think about it.

Removing his hand, he began to softly sing a song that he wrote for his angel long ago, which he hope to share with her when she got old enough to understand his feelings:

"_Night time sharpens,_

_Heightens each sensation…_

_Darkness stirs and_

_Wakes imagination…_

_Silently the senses _

_Abandon their defenses…_

_Slowly, gently_

_Night unfurls its splendor…_

_Grasp it, sense it-_

_Tremulous and tender…_

_Turn your face away _

_From the garish light of day,_

_Turn your thoughts away_

_From cold, unfeeling light-_

_And listen to _

_The music of the night…"_

The soothing of his tenor voice took its affect over her as the sounds ceased from her mouth and calmness settled on her features. Erik grew confident and continued:

_"Close your eyes_

_And surrender to your_

_Darkest dreams!_

_Purge your thoughts_

_Of the life you knew before!_

_Close your eyes,_

_Let your spirit_

_Start to soar!_

_And you'll live _

_As you never lived before…_

_Softly, deftly,_

_Music shall caress you_

_Hear it, feel it,_

_Secretly possess you._

_Open up your mind,_

_Let your fantasies unwind,_

_In this darkness which you know_

_You cannot fight-_

_The darkness of_

_The music of the night…_

_Let your mind_

_Start a journey through a_

_Strange, new world!_

_Leave all thoughts of the world you_

_Knew before!_

_Let your soul _

_Take you where you_

_Long to be!_

_Only then _

_Can you belong _

_To me…_

_Floating, falling,_

_Sweet intoxication!_

_Touch me, trust me,_

_Savor each sensation!"_

Her eyelids fluttered gently as Erik drew closer, closer as his breath tickled the skin of her neck. A small smile grew on his countenance as he went on singing for her…

"_Let the dream begin,_

_Let your darker side give in_

_To the power of _

_The music that I write-_

_The power of_

_The music of the night…"_

Drawing a shaky breath, Erik loomed over her as the last words fled his lips:

_"You alone_

_Can make my song take flight-_

_Help me make_

_The music of the night…"_

He barely touched her forehead with his lips, but when he withdrew a tranquil look reflected on her pale face. Like always, his voice had a way of fighting off the inner demons inside this girl. Erik sat beside her, taking in every inch of the easy fall and rise of her chest before he forced himself to leave this serene scene. She no longer needed him.

Within minutes he was back on his path to his home, humming his song and forgetting about why he was afraid of the dark before.

* * *

Sometime during the night, her easy slumber became restless for once more her mind was filled with endless vivid images of Ray.

She woke up suddenly, jumping upright in bed, panting heavily. Sweat illuminated her forehead, even as she wiped most of it off. _What a horrible dream!_

The last one was the icing to the cake. Closing her eyes, Christine could picture the scene being replayed in her head. But unlike the others, this one was completely different.

Christine stood in a room, which she thought she was alone until the heart wrenching sobs coming from somewhere nearby woke her out of her stupor. Once adjusted to the darkness, she could make out an outline of a body huddling in a corner. It was a girl.

Christine couldn't see her face. All she could see was the girl's long wild mass of raven curls clinging to her face. The cries erupting from her was enough for Christine's own to well up. She went forward to see if she could help, when a loud busting sound stopped her cold in her tracks.

Ray stormed over and yanked the girl off the ground by her forearms, shaking and screaming at her with sheer force, that Christine feared he would severely hurt the poor thing. She went to interfere but realized that he couldn't hear or see her. She went to grab his hair to pull away, alas her hand went straight through him as if she was a ghost. She tried getting his attention but failed. She watched, helpless, as he went on ranting and then all to soon he stopped and dropped the girl. She had fainted.

Ray mumbled something incoherently before exiting from the way he entered. Christine walked over to the girl's lifeless form. Was this her? Is this what she had become over the past several months?

She made a move to brush the girl's hair back until a cold, deathly hand clasped her wrist. "Help me," came the pained whisper before she collapsed.

Then she woke.

Christine didn't know who the girl was, but it sent chills down her spine. She had a feeling of who it was but that's all it was. A feeling. It couldn't mean anything. It probably had to deal with the stress she's been having and her worrisome mind brought it on.

But strangely enough she heard a voice in her head that stop the dreams, though it was short-lived. _Odd, it sounded like him…_

Christine shook her head from the crazy notion. _Okay, girl, you got to get yourself under control. Ray's not here, well, his "twin" if you could say, but if you stay away then everything will be all right. Easier said than done. Why do I still feel uppity? _

Her thoughts were interrupted when a girl on the other side of the room cried out. Christine felt guilty for putting gruesome images in the girls' childish minds. But they wanted to be scared and Christine _did _deliver it. And if they couldn't handle it then they should refrain from requesting such stories if it's going to keep them up at night.

She glanced around the room, amazed how such small space can accommodate so many girls. Fifteen to be exact and there was another room next door that holds fifteen as well. But there was the lack of privacy except for a poor excuse of a makeshift cloth used as a drape for the girls to dress behind. Any pervert could still get an eye-view and it made Christine uncomfortable.

Though, she shouldn't have to complain. She loved her body and there was no shame in showing it, but when it came to men whose minds are in the gutter 24/7 then it becomes a different story. Buquet was a prime suspect for one who might try and sneak a quick peek. And Christine wouldn't be surprised if he did already. But she thought about how modest Daae was and didn't want to jeopardize her reputation by any means. So what did she do?

At the foot of Christine's bed was a small chair with a flimsy, yet conventional robe draped across. She remembered seeing a closet filled with dresses in the dressing room so she realized that Daae changed in there. _Smart move_, she thought.

Christine found herself from the short period of time that she liked the Opera Populaire. It was always busy and so full of life with the hired hands and performers running about. But like all good things there were some downfalls, meaning, Christine witnessed all sorts of temptations taking place in the dark corners. And some she wished she rather never see again for as long as she lived. _At least I know this won't scar me for life._

For someone like Daae, who is very much the picture of innocence, it was hard to believe that she could still maintain her virtue living in such a place. But she did and so did Meg, though some chorus girls could be called into question simply due to their body language whenever they're near a man.

Madame Giry told Christine how Daae was pretty much the outcast of the company and it set her different from the rest of the girls. Daae never bragged about any beaus or gifts or go into great detail of any nightly visits with certain patrons. No, Daae kept a clean record and to the bunch they thought her queer since she refused to take part in any mischief whatsoever. There was nothing about Daae that made her look good in the eyes of the others.

_Until now_, she mused with delight. The girls did get the scare of their lifetime and perhaps they'll start treating Daae with respect. Those simpleton rats didn't know that they were ruining their lives for the future by indulging in lustful acts and whatnot. Only Daae and Meg used their heads.

She wrapped her blanket around her tightly and slowly fell back on the flat pillow. All this pondering was making her tired and before she knew it her eyes drifted closed, returning to the state of oblivion.

* * *

The next morning proved to be quite chaotic. The managers were terribly upset over two new letters they received from the Opera Ghost.

Christine was with Meg and her mother at the grand foyer when Firmin began shouting, "It's really not amusing!"

"He's abusing our position!" echoed Andre.

Christine shot Antoinette a confused look who just meekly smiled and headed over to the blustering managers.

"Your Ghost demands his pay! He shall ruin us with this confounded madness!" Firmin bellowed.

"Madame Giry?" Andre asked, waiting for her opinion.

The older woman shrugged nonchalant. "Well, gentlemen, it's best to obey his orders. Monsieur Lefeure learned fast that it's not in the opera's best interests to upset the Ghost."

"This is insanity I say! Pure insanity!" cried Firmin, who refused to calm down by Andre's persistent shaking. "Would you stop Andre!"

"Messieurs."

The new voice silent Firmin from its rich, but urgent tone. Christine turned her head to see who it was and stopped breathing.

TBC…


	5. Ghosts of the Past

A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for your patience while I was gone. Yet some more bad news-- I'm leaving on Tuesday for a few days to go to King's Island in Ohio. So please bear with me with all these trips! I'll have up Chapter Six on Monday before I leave. Don't forget to review!

Chapter 5- Ghosts of the Past

_"Ray stop! Please you're hurting me!" Christine pleaded, her brown orbs wide in fright._

_Tonight wasn't a good night. Christine finished a show for a charity function and it didn't go well as Ray had hoped. It was clearly evident that Angel wasn't in the mood for her performance. Fatigue shown through her features and it did help make matters worse when a reporter had to question about it. _

_Ray stood by her when it was asked and she knew she would pay for it. The happy front collapsed at that point and she quickly explained her lack of enthusiasm was due to the exhaustion and pressure towards her newest record coming out._

_But it didn't matter to Ray._

"_You bitch!" Ray growled. His nails dug into the skin of her arms as he glared at her, his cool eyes now hazed over in a storm of rage._

"_You know better than that!" he spat._

"_I know! I'm sorry! It wasn't my fault!" she squeaked. The pain was getting to be unbearable as tears began stinging her eyes. "Ray-"_

"_Shut up!" His hand flew out and smacked her across the face. The blow sent Christine flying backwards to the ground. She covered her redden face in misery and choked on her sobs. _Stop crying! Stop crying! It's only going to make it worse!

_Too late_.

_He grabbed her by the hair, roughly, a few strands ripped from her scalp as he pulled her towards him. "STOP CRYING!" he barked. "Are you trying to mess this up? Christ Christine!"_

_She trembled in his hold as Ray continued to throw obscenities at her, shaking his head furiously. She gulped down the batch of tears that were threatening to spill. _

You need to be strong Christine. You got to be. Think of Daddy, think of Meg, think of the old Ray. This is not Ray. This is a nightmare. It'll be over. I'll wake up and none of this ever happened. It will be the old days. Daddy's alive and I'm excited about my music. And… I'll have him here again.

_This put Christine slightly at ease despite the situation she was in. Her crying finally stopped and Ray had let her go sometime during her wishful thinking._

_He was pacing back and forth, mumbling incoherently, and it seemed that it was over. Nothing was going to happen. Ray had calmed down and the interview never occurred. She took a deep breath and managed to put herself together. Everything was fine._

_All too sudden he came at her, tugging her face closer to his, his ragged hot breath washing over her pale skin._

"_I know what you're thinking," he hissed. Ray looked like a wild cat ready to kill its prey from his hungry stare. His fingers curled in her dark locks possessively and yanking hard, making her remember whom she belonged to._

"_It's him isn't it? You wished he were here right now, holding, kissing you all over, making you crumble into pieces. You long for him to whisper sweet nothings into your ear and everything you do is for him and him alone."_

_Christine didn't make a sound. His accusation was close to home plate. She kept her eyes to the ground, knowing he would see the truth._

"_Well, guess what? This is the reality of it- he's gone and so is your father! You have me and only me. Everything you do is for me understood? How many times must I tell you this Christine? I don't want to hurt you, honestly I don't but you give me no choice. You force me to hurt you Chrissie-Bear."_

_She hated that nickname. It made her feel like an insolent child. The only nickname she tolerated was her pseudonym- Angel and it only made her quiver with want from another's lips._

_Ray forced her chin up to look at her dead in the eyes. "You're thinking about him again. I will not have it in our relationship Christine!"_

"_No matter what you do to me, it will never change the fact I had no choice in this!" she glowered._

"_You belong to me Christine, like it or not." And with that said, he lifted her over his shoulder and headed towards the bedroom, with Christine trying to get away._

Christine blinked hard at the Vicomte. That memory of Ray surfaced as soon as she laid eyes on him. Fear numbed her as she realized a startling and horrifying truth- no matter where she is she cannot escape him.

"I take it you sent me this note?" the Vicomte said, taking a few strides over to the standing gentlemen and Antoinette.

"What's all this nonsense?" Firmin implored.

"Of course not!" Andre added.

"Well, isn't this the letter you sent?" Raoul questioned, handing the note to them. Andre took hold of it and quickly scanned it before reading aloud:

"_Vicomte,_

_Your patronage to my theatre is most surely welcome, but I have one request of you that better be taken in earnest. Do not go near Christine Daae. She is not feeling well and I will not have her under any stress. Her Angel of Music watches over her and will know if someone causes her any distress. I wish in your best interests you would do as I say with no objections, otherwise the consequences could be fatal."_

"What childish foolery!" Firmin exclaimed. "I assure you, le Vicomte, that no one from this opera house sent this!"

"I hope not but it doesn't ease my mind," Raoul answered. "If this is any idea of a joke then I fail to see the humor in it."

At that moment, he turned and saw Christine. His lips upturned into a charmed smile as he glided over to her stance.

"Ah, Christine Daae. I was wondering if you saw me the other night at the gala. Surely you haven't forgotten Little Lotte and the red scarf I so daringly rescued?"

Meg nudged her from behind causing Christine to get closer to him. His friendly aquamarine eyes never left hers as he awaited her response.

What was she to say? She had no clue what he was talking about, but if concealing her identity was important as Madame Giry emphasized than she had to play the part. No matter how much it killed her.

She timidly returned his smile and nodded. "I do. Excuse me for my behavior last night. I'm not sure what came over me." _As if he doesn't know that._

"I do hope that the note isn't true about you being unwell. I was hoping you would accompany me to dinner one day?" His benevolent and eager tone wasn't ignored by Christine's part. It was obvious that he was thrilled about being in her… Daae's presence once more after so many years. It would be the right thing to do to accept his innocent offer, but the severity of the note sent warning signals through Christine's mind. _Couldn't he see that someone knows he bothers me?_

She made a meek gesture. "Perhaps." Though in her gut, she was really saying, _not as long as I live._

"Splendid!" His eyes twinkled with delight. "And may I ask, do you know who could have sent this letter?"

Christine was taken aback by his question and had to bite her tongue before replying, "Well, wasn't it signed by the infamous Phantom or O.G. as he goes by?" But she held it in. There was the short reference to the Angel of Music and Meg did comment about that, but who exactly was this angel? It had to be of flesh and blood Christine knew that. No supernatural being could prompt such a threat for fun and it wasn't just her skeptic mind speaking. Thankfully she was interrupted before she could answer.

"Where is he?" boomed Carlotta.

The Spanish diva followed by her maids and Piangi made her way over to Christine and Raoul. She shook her finger at him, her plump face crimson and distorted in anger.

"You! How dare you make a fool out of me!"

"Signora, what are you implying?" he asked calmly. His reserve surprised Christine but then again Ray had the same trait when it came to any accusations.

"This!" She shoved a note into his face and stomped her foot impatiently. Glaring at him and to the managers, she continued. "I do not take _kindly _to threats!"

"Wha-?" Andre began but Raoul cut him off.

"It says:

_As always, your performance has yet again ruined a perfectly good evening. As a disgrace to **my** opera house, I would hope by now by the lack of attendance you would see that your talent is no longer of use. I suggest now, Signora Giudicelli, you should back down or face another misfortune. Soon a new prima donna will emerge and La Carlotta will be forgotten and all of Paris will be at their feet for Christine Daae."_

"See? See? That little rat is trying to replace me!" she snapped.

"I'm doing no such thing!" cried Christine in defense. "How can I if I'm not singing?"

"Yes, she does have a point," spoke Andre.

Carlotta rolled her eyes and waddled over to them. "I know the Vicomte- her _lover_- sent it!"

_Lover? _Christine thought, her jaw dropping in surprise. _What on Earth would make her think that?_

Raoul basically answered, "Indeed? Can you believe this?"

"I am unwanted!" the prima donna droned.

"Signora!" placated Andre and Firmin.

"I am unwelcome!" Carlotta continued ranting, falling into the arms of her lover.

It was at the moment of heighten antics Christine noticed Madame Giry disappeared. She went to her friend to ask where she went, when Madame Giry returned, announcing she had another note from whom else? The Opera Ghost.

Carlotta, Andre, and Raoul all drove to catch it, but alas, Firmin beat them to it.

"Ahem! Gentlemen and lady, you all need to pull yourselves together! Now, let's see what our dear friend has written!

_Gentlemen,_

_I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature, detailing how _my _theatre is to be run. You have not followed my instructions. I shall give you once last chance._

_In the new production of _Il Muto _you will cast Carlotta as the Pageboy. The role is silent and therefore fits in her range splendidly. Christine Daae will play the role of the Countess. The role, which Miss Daae sings, calls for charm and appeal. She has the ability to do so unlike the former. _

_I have great expectations that some coaxing will ensure her to play the part. _

_I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in Box 5, which will be kept empty for me. And also one minor detail- tell your beloved patron that if he wishes to see Miss Daae then he best be on his guard. _

_If these commands are ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur! I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant,_

_O.G."_

Raoul glanced over to the bewildered Christine who was dumbfounded from the start of the note. _Why? Why does he want me… err, Daae so much to play the leads? Sure Carlotta is bad but c'mon! At least she's somewhat tolerable and the attendants seem to like her, somewhat. No! I cannot… will not do this. _

Firmin raised an eyebrow in her direction while everyone waited in hush anticipation to see what her response will be to the demand.

Straighten her shoulders, the brunette's chin stuck out defiantly. "My answer hasn't changed. I will not sing and that's final!"

TBC…


	6. The Butterfly

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I know many of you want Erik and Christine to meet soon, but sadly it won't happen until later in the story. It works out better for what I have planned. And for our mystery guy…. his story won't come into play until the next chapter. So hang on guys! The good stuff is coming right away.

Chapter 6- The Butterfly

A few days went by since the "Note Incident" had occurred. Christine still refused to sing the role of the Countess, which made Carlotta happy. Rehearsals started and so far there wasn't any accidents. Apparently, the Opera Ghost was bluffing.

Christine stood by the main doors, leading into the stage, and watched the performers. _Il Muto _was a comedy with plenty of sexual innuendos a feature that Christine didn't think they would do. But it seemed to be popular among the aristocrats so who was she to judge?

Besides that it was humorous and she briefly thought that if she was married to someone like Piangi she would be having an affair as well. _But no affair is justified no matter what even if your spouse is a creep._

Much to her shame, Christine began to long to be with the dancers. Watching their dynamic turns and steps, she wanted to partake in that beauty of expressing with your body and feet. Dancing has always been a passion of Christine's next to singing. For any concert or video she did her own choreography. As a young child, she took many classes in the art- tap, ballet, Pointe, jazz, you name it. She was an expert when it came to the latest steps.

Her sudden interest to the stage wasn't just the dancing, but mainly because she was always into Broadway musicals and operas. She found it fascinating to play another person and break out in song when the time calls for it. _But that's not part of me anymore, _she reminded herself. _That died out long ago._

From behind, she heard several voices, one of which she could easily distinguish it as Raoul's. So far she's been trying to stay away from him since he wasn't keeping his end of bargain with the Opera Ghost. _You would think if someone threatened your life and told you to stay away from someone you would comply. _

But the Vicomte wasn't like anyone else. He continued to "bump" into her and try to initiate pleasantries, but Christine would find some reason not to stay long. She secretly feared that he would do something whenever they were alone. So being the pessimistic she would run and hide when she hears him. And in this case, it was coming up quite rapidly.

Christine scurried away before the visitors could reach her. It reminded her of her similar exit after the managers convinced Carlotta that her fans needed her. She busted out before Raoul could make any future plans for themselves.

The truth was she didn't know who Raoul was. Sure, he looked like Ray but it didn't mean he _was _Ray.

Christine retreated to her dressing room, a habit she picked up since her stay, and collapsed on the settee. Right away she got the prickling sensation of being watched and sighed.

She was getting that a lot lately much to her annoyance. But she grew to accept it and ignore the fluttering in her stomach. She told herself she would approach Madame Giry about it, but never could bring herself to do so. Christine didn't know what was holding her back, but she figured it had to with the aftermath of the affect. She would get a warm, relaxing feeling. The sort of feeling you would get by being around a loved one. So loved… so protected…

It seemed to ease her nerves after she had an encounter with Raoul.

Leaning back, she noticed that though most of the people here looked like those back home, they all had different personalities just about.

First Andre and Firmin. Now, Andrews and Foster would never let a singer boss them around and if one tried, they were kicked out. Caroline tried plenty of times to get them to bow at her whims, but all she got was a warning and a threat that her contract with Popular Records will be pulled. That usually stops her from ordering them around for a little while.

Carlotta, however, had the managers wrapped around her stubby finger. She knew how to get their goat and thus get her way.

Then there was Meg. This Meg was completely naïve, a trait that Meg Gary never possessed. Sure she had her childish moments, but for the most part Meg Gary was far from being innocent. She had a bit of a dirty mind in a funny sense. Christine cracked a grin at the memory of what they deemed as the "Loofah Incident" back in high school.

She couldn't remember what prompted the conversation, but all the girls at their lunch table were talking about their loofahs. What colors they had and how many, etc until one of the girls, Charlotte, said she thought they were called "puffs".

Hearing the word "puff" Meg started smiling widely. Christine laughed and threw a French fry at her, telling her to her get mind out of the gutter. Meg claimed all she heard was "puff" and that did it.

Meg had the strangest ability to take the most innocent of words and objects and turn them into a sexual meaning. For example, think about ice cream. Now think of ice cream in the dark and it's melting. Or Christine's personal favorites of Meguhisms "He'll do anything if you paint him" and "I'm leaking and sticky".

Christine was positive that if Meg Giry heard any of this she would die from shock. But both girls were sweet, honest, bubbly, and easy to talk to. So Meg Giry wasn't a complete bore. But with Gary, it was never a dull moment in the literal sense.

The ultimate difference would be between Madame Giry and Mrs. Gary. Mrs. Gary was in every sense of the word "maternal". She always had a shoulder for someone to cry on or just complain about.

Antonia Gary had a way of making the best of a horrible situation and is quite insightful when she needed to be. Christine loved Meg's mother. She was unlike other moms she knew. Her family came from Gypsy descent and when they were younger, she would tell Meg and Christine all sorts of stories that were passed down to her from her grandmother.

The best parts of her childhood were the "rituals" Antonia would do with them. Christine's favorite ritual was the time traveling. Antonia told them that everyone had a past life from which they were reincarnated. It was possible to switch places to get a feel of what life you could possibly have led. But the thing was if one did that then the other's soul would be part of the time that one came from.

"But to prevent it, so not to disturb time, another follower of the arts could help keep the soul in their time. We communicate through dreams and feelings. You just know if you were strongly connected to the spirits," Antonia would say.

Christine found it fascinating. But of course, it was an impossible feat but for a child it was the greatest game ever. Meg and she had a good times pretending to be part of their past lives.

There were times, however, when Antonia would lose her temper and punishments were never fun. And she did have her moments of being firm with Meg if she misbehaved, which was half the time.

Madame Giry, Christine could describe her as brutally honest. And she means "Simon Honesty". She isn't afraid to put any of the girls on the spot. One time she heard her telling one girl to lose some weight because she didn't want an elephant prancing around the stage.

Madame Giry was in the very meaning of "strict" and it didn't matter who suffered her wrath. Christine noticed off the bat that she was particularly hard on Meg and it could have been because of Meg's status as a ballerina training to be prima ballerina. Meg told her she hoped to move up to the title soon as possible.

And for La Carlotta? Well, Caroline was certainly not as plump as she was and that was it.

For the most part Christine wanted to protect Daae from Raoul. She didn't want the girl to go through with what she did. It didn't matter that they were old friends. Wasn't she not an old friend of Ray's? There was no difference for Christine to see.

Of course Meg Giry noticed Christine "Daae"'s lack of interest of wanting to catch up with her past. She knew she had to keep up the act and that Daae would be more than willing to talk to Raoul, but Christine Dallas was not. So she didn't do this one thing? It was none of Meg's business so let her ponder why one moment she was excited and the next she could care less. She didn't have to explain her behavior to anyone.

She got up and stared at her reflection in the large mirror. She looked better that was for sure. No red marks, no evidence of serious crying, and no signs of the abused Christine anywhere. Good. She wanted it to be kept that way.

But there was one thing that kept nagging her. If everyone she knew was here, then wouldn't it stand to reason he would be here as well? She dared not get her hopes up, but if he was…

_Don't be silly, _she berated herself. _It's not like he could do anything to warn you in the future to not even talk to Ray. _

But if she could only be held by him, for old time's sake.

It was outlandish but perhaps it was the closure she needed from him. Anything to keep her from dreaming that he would come to her rescue.

Her eyes drifted to the vanity, to the drawer that held the butterfly necklace. Was it even still there? Or was it a crazy mirage she somehow conjure up?

She walked the few inches over and opened the drawer. The sparkling blue crystals shined up at her and for a second she wanted to slam it close, cursing it and him. She refrained herself from the action, and instead dipped her hand in and pulled it out.

It was still in good condition like she just opened it from the box. She looked into the vanity mirror with the necklace lying on her skin.

_"I saw it and knew it was for you right away. I couldn't resist," his husky voice tickled the hairs on her neck as he clasped it on._

Christine almost dropped it as her head twisted around. She could have sworn she heard him! He was standing next to her and…

"Oh God Christine!" she giggled uncontrollably. "Now you're just hearing things!"

Shaking her head, she let out a chuckle here and there as she put on the necklace. She forgot how light it was and how the crystals shimmered against her porcelain skin. She traced the chain with her finger and let out a shuddering breath. Seeing her wearing the necklace opened up a floodgate of memories.

Him kissing her, him touching her, him singing to her, him making sweet love to her! He always said she was his muse, his light, his Angel.

Christine took a staggering step back as tears began making their way down her flush cheeks.

He said he would always be there for her! That their souls were connected from the moment they met, that nothing could drive them apart. He said he was the caterpillar and she the beautiful butterfly, and their love was the cocoon that joined them. He said… he said…

"No more!" she moaned, falling to her knees. "No more of this! No more of him!"

"No more of who Christine?" demanded a new voice.

Christine spun around and gasped.

TBC…


	7. Confessions of the Butterfly

A/N: Long last here it is! The answer to the mystery guy! But there are some questions that are not answered quite yet, which means you guys have to stick around. Thanks again for the reviews and to my beta Megan!

And to all those in London: I'm sorry to hear what happened and my heart and prayers go out to you and your loved ones. I feel this is whole terrorist thing is getting out of control and I wish that a peaceful solution will come sooner. I dedicate this chapter to those who lives were lost and injured and to their family and friends. After what happened on 9/11 no one should ever suffer the same way.

Chapter 7- Confessions of the Butterfly

A very bedazzled and irritated Meg glared down at the startled brunette. Her arms on her hips, Meg waited for her response. "Well?"

"M-meg!" Christine stammered. "I didn't hear you come in or knock."

And that was the truth. She never heard the ballet dancer enter and if she did knock, then Christine blocked the sound from her own distressed cries.

Meg went over to her and pulled her up from the floor. "You are not Christine." It wasn't a question it was a statement.

Christine opened her mouth to speak but silenced by Meg's raised hand. "Please don't lie to me anymore. I get enough from Maman."

Christine lowered her eyes and shifted nervously on her feet. Should she tell her? Madame Giry insisted that Meg should never know the truth, but she was her friend! _No, she's not! She's Daae's friend. Meg Gary is **your **friend. _

But seeing the hurt in the blonde's baby blue eyes almost made her resolve crumble. Almost.

"Don't deny it Chr- or whomever you are! How could you do this? What sort of black heart do you have to make up such a sick game?"

"Meg it's not like that-!"

"Oh it isn't? So going around pretending to be _my _best friend and making everyone believe you're Christine Daae is what? A practical joke? And how in the world did you even come to look like her? You would have fooled me if it haven't been for the Vicomte to show up as he did."

"Meg, I'm sorry but it's not what you thi-"

"Think! I don't know what I think of you! And Maman! She's in on this too isn't she? Or why else would she bother to help hide you. Where is the real Christine Daae? What did you do to her!"

Meg's frantic accusations stabbed Christine in the heart. She hated doing this but what other choice did she have? And she couldn't try reasoning with her. She got herself so worked up that any excuse coming from Christine would go in one ear and out the other! Tears pricked in her brown eyes but she refused to let them fall.

"Enough of the lies! Tell me who _are _you!"

"My name is Christine, but you're right. It's not Christine Daae it's Dallas," she finally said.

Meg blinked at her, surprised how easily she admitted it. "But how?"

Christine sighed. "I'm sorry I tricked you, honestly, I am. But your mother thought it would be safer if I never told you."

"Why?"

"You wouldn't understand. She said she wasn't sure how you would react, she probably meant this."

Meg Giry's features softened a little bit, but the visible hurt was evident in her eyes. "But where is Christine?"

Christine pitied the girl's helplessness. She didn't deserve to be drag along in this masquerade, but what else could Christine do? She had no idea how she winded up here; let alone how to get back to where she belonged. But looking at Meg reminded her of Megan and she couldn't keep this up anymore. She owed her an explanation to her actions and to Hell with the consequences if Madame Giry finds out, she surely believed that the older woman would know sooner or later from her daughter. Meg was her best friend. It didn't matter what time they were from. They were friends and will always be.

"I don't where she is," Christine confessed and that was the utmost truth. Meg looked away from her, her crestfallen countenance clearly shown. Christine wished she could tell her what she wanted to hear, but it would sound hopeless and false if she did. And she knew Meg would know as well.

"So if you don't know where she is, then I suppose Maman doesn't either?" Her voice came out tiny but it didn't disguise her poignant tone.

Christine shook her head. "I wish I did but I don't and neither does your mother."

The petite dancer let out a sob. "But… but you **look** like her!"

Christine rushed over and embraced her in an endearing way, relieved that she didn't shove her away. Meg held her back in return, her sniffles becoming predominant to her emotions. She let Meg cry on her for a bit before she pulled back, letting Meg wipe a few stray tears away from her now pink cheeks.

"I'm sorry I deceived you so Meg," she whispered. "It wasn't easy for me to do. You look like my friend Meg too and lying to you was like lying to her. I hated it but I had to."

"Why must you lie? You could have told me the truth. I would have understood."

Christine shook her head in an _tsk tsk _manner. "You would think so but you wouldn't. It's not easy to explain…"

"So tell me! I promise I won't tell a soul or my mother if that's what bothers you," Meg pleaded. "I just want to know. Please."

Taking a deep breath, Christine proceeded to tell her that she was from the 21st Century, how she came to be here, and how Madame Giry knew who she was and what she had her do. Meg listened intently, her childlike wonder returning when Christine explained how she and Daae were so much alike and about her and Megan Gary. When she finished, Meg was no longer in tears but they were replaced by idle curiosity.

"You know I should hate you so but I don't. I guess that counts for something."

"Thank you." And Christine really meant it. She was afraid what it would be like if Meg did hate her.

"So you're really from the future? Of what's to come?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

Christine laughed. Who would have thought that the time you came from could be so interesting to others? After a while Meg joined in with her, laughing out their hurt. It felt… good. A huge weight was lifted from her chest but there was still more but it was a start.

"So Christine, may I ask, where you got that necklace? It doesn't look like anything of Christine's."

The brunette completely forgot she was wearing it. She was so busy trying to figure out what she should tell Meg that hiding the necklace fled her mind.

"It's mine," she answered softly, lightly touching the pendant.

"It's lovely." Meg watched her and then held out her hand. "I think there's more for us to discuss. You actually and I know the place for the privacy."

* * *

Meg led Christine to the rooftop of the opera house, to Apollo's Lyre.

Christine held her breath at the breathtaking view. You could see the entire city from there.

Meg stood by her side, gazing out at the view, before softly saying, "Christine and I used to come up here all the time. And Maman would find us and scold us for missing practice. Ha, such fun times."

"I bet."

"I kind of suspected for some time that you weren't Christine Daae. I didn't mention it before since Maman told me to hold my tongue. But I'm sure you know what I mean."

"I do." Thinking back to the Angel of Music and Raoul, if Christine were in Meg's shoes she would have thought the same thing.

"Who are you?" Meg asked.

"The long or the short version?"

Meg shrugged. "We have plenty of time."

Christine nodded. "I guess I should start by saying that everyone here has some importance to me in the future. Ray is Raoul or I should say, Raoul looks like Ray. We were childhood friends. Meg, Ray, and I lived by each other and we used to play with one another until Ray's family moved to Florida when I was thirteen. We kept in touch for a while but eventually grew apart. My father, Charles Dallas, was a violinist like Christine's and he was extremely talented.

"We made a few recordings together, but the one I'll never forget was on my sixteenth birthday, he made a special CD for me. Any song I sang at some point in my life was on it. He always told me I would make it big and I did. And I have him to think for it.

"When I was eighteen, there was this talent show and that was where I was discovered. My agents are Andre and Firmin and before I knew it I was in Los Angeles with a record contract. It was so surreal if you could imagine. I went by the name Angel because it was my nickname and it suited my personality. Within a year I was a rising star on the Charts.

"I know what I'm saying might not make much sense to you, but opera isn't the only music around and most people don't appreciate it anymore. I grew up wanting to be an opera singer but this opportunity was at my feet and I couldn't refuse. I decided to live in L.A. and my friend Meg and her mother moved in with me. Though, everything hadn't been smooth sailing.

"You see, the media has been trying to get dirt on me for the longest time and they never had much luck, except for Caroline. She is the Carlotta of the future basically and we have the same agents. Ever since I walked in, Caroline had this chip on her shoulder. The good thing is that she _can't _control them like Carlotta does with the managers. But whatever she does to me it usually backfires and it shows when you compare our record sales. Then he came along.

"It was after a show in L.A. when I found a letter in my room. It was from a guy who wrote saying he loved the show and that I have a voice of an angel. But he advised me that I lack emotion, no zeal in the songs. So he explained some techniques that would help me breathe on stage so I'll be able to project my voice louder. Meg thought he was a show off but I tried it and it worked. And after that show I got another letter and inside the envelope was a silk red rose with a black ribbon tied on the stem.

"Meg called him my 'Letter Lover' and at the end of every show, every appearance I always got some message from him with a rose. It went on for a few months and I got to know a little bit about him through his writings. He was musician, himself, and he really knew a lot about how to help me to become better. My first tour was approaching and I was so nervous. He seemed to know that and sent like a hundred encouraging letters to me telling me I would do fine and he would be at every show. I thought he was exaggerating a bit on the shows he'll attend, but he felt it was time we met.

"The first concert took place in Detroit. When I was on that stage, I knew he was there. I never knew his name but I felt him watching me and I wanted to make him proud. It was one of the best performances I ever given and it was for the mysterious man who sent me notes and flowers. For an after party everyone went to Hockey Town Café for some drinks. Meg and I were chatting and the only thing in the back of my mind was about _him_. I wondered if he saw me and if he would show up here. It was a long shot in thinking that but I was afraid I somehow missed him or something. Anyways, I went up to get us some drinks when I literally ran into some guy's back. I was terribly embarrassed and as I looked up to apologize, I swear, time stopped. I knew it was him.

"He was taller than me, around six foot one, with clean cut black hair that was shiny as a new penny and the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes I ever seen. He wore nothing but black head to toe and it outlined his muscular frame so well. And his voice! It was so… entrancing. I could easily lose myself in his deep, intoxicating voice and do anything he asked of me. All he said was 'hi' and I was gone. I sold myself to the Devil that night and I would gladly do it all over again if I had too.

"We started talking and he admitted he wrote me all those letters and sent me the flowers. He was thrilled I took his advice. In fact he told me he was embarrassed to do such a thing because he didn't want to offend me in anyway. I laughed and told him I appreciated all of his comments. He didn't seem to me like the stalkerish type and we got along great.

"Meg eventually left for the hotel but I stayed with him. We talked for about another hour or so before he offered to take me back to my hotel. It was so gallant of him and I didn't want the night to end. We hopped into a cab and went to the hotel. When we arrived, he walked me up to the door and kissed the back of my hand, bowing to me while he said his good-bye. I was sad to see him let go of me, but I couldn't ask if he wanted to come up with me. It would send him the wrong message and I didn't want to ruin the evening. I asked if I would see him again and he promised I would definitely will. He turned to walk away when I realized I never got this dark gentleman's name. He smirked and said, 'Erik. Erik Destler.'"

Christine paused as the distant memory came flooding back to her. Meg watched her in awe as the rapture quickly disintegrated into bitter pain. She bit her lip as tears threatened to spill. She hadn't said his name for six months. _Six _months and it was out in the blue. His name echoed in her ears as a small weight seemed to leave her shoulders. It felt good on her lips to say it again and at the same time she cursed it. Oh how she hated him and loved him at the moment.

"I went into my room and right away Meg hounded me with questions. The one that stuck out to mind that I didn't have an answer for was 'Why is he wearing a mask?' To be perfectly honest, I never noticed he was wearing one. And you would think I would have seen it since it covered his entire right side! But I didn't and I felt bad about not asking about it. How rude is that of someone not to even the decency to ask? Then I thought, if… Erik (She had to wet her lips before saying his name again and it proved to be hard Meg noticed) wanted me to say something he would have brought it up by giving me some kind of hint. But he _didn't_.

"The next concert was in Philadelphia and just as he promised he was there. He bought a bouquet of red and white roses for me. We spent another night together and we went to a movie, um it's a play on a flat screen, forget it. Again, he ended the night the same way as before by returning me to my hotel and kissing my hand.

"Our little tour courtship continued and without telling me, I knew he was rich. How else could anyone afford to go to every concert and have enough to spend the night and airfare? He did and the only information he told me of his profession was that he earned a lot from sells and private shows and that was that. He never elaborated so I figured he wanted to keep it at a low-key. I knew he wasn't in the mafia or anything so I assumed he was probably a music owner because of his detailed background of the arts. This guy really knew his Mozart from his Bach.

"The tour ended in Sacramento and Erik asked me out to dinner once we get back to L.A. He lived close by and after the evenings spent together I couldn't let him go. I gave him my number and address and we made plans right away. I couldn't stay far from him very long. Traveling to city to city he was always on my mind and it drove my friends nuts. I couldn't shut up about him!

"When our date came, he came in a limo and waited downstairs for me. Before he came I was pulling my hair out over what to wear. I wanted to impress him. So I settled on this low-cut knee-length black slinky dress. His expression was priceless as I met him. I thought his eyes would burst from the look he gave me. He couldn't say anything and I remember smiling to myself and thinking, _Hey, I did my job for tonight. I rendered my date speechless._

"When he finally got over his shock we went to dinner. While we waited for our drinks this teenage girl, around fifteen, came over to our table and asked Erik for his autograph. He was humiliated but wrote her a special message and kissed her hand like he did mine that left her all in blushes. It was the sweetest thing I ever seen.

"Erik apologized to me and I told him it was all right. I mean while we were hanging out I kept signing autographs every way we went. But it did leave me curious as to whom he really was. The girl knew Erik and I was dying to know his secret. He explained he was an accomplished singer and pianist. He's done shows all across Europe and had the pleasure to play for the Royal Family. Then it hit me. He was the 'Phantom'!

"My dad was a huge fan of his for years and owned every record he's done. I listened to them so I knew his style very well. I loved his music and he would be often accompanied by an orchestra and on rare cases sing the vocals. But when he sang… it was Heaven and you could feel yourself being transported to somewhere magical and beautiful.

"I didn't recognized him at first because the Phantom was never one the cover of his albums and he hardly does any concerts in America. He doesn't do interviews and if he does then it's all words and no pictures. He was like a ghost of a man. Imagine my surprise when he told me who he was! I always pictured the Phantom as an older man, around fifty maybe balding. But he was only twenty-six. Twenty-six! And the fact he listens to my music and not just classical came as a shocking as well. But Erik said he only listens to pop music because I was the only singer in the field that interested him. It was an honor to know that the aloof Phantom happened to be my number one fan.

"After dinner we walked around and then he took me back to my place. Outside my door, we said goodnight and then we kissed. I kissed plenty of guys in my time but with Erik it was new and exciting. I felt like I was fourteen all over again experiencing that moment when the attraction is known. The feeling of his lips on mine was nothing I ever felt before. It was so right and he knew it as well. And from that point on we became inseparable."

"Wow. He seems like Prince Charming," Meg commented. "I wish I knew someone like him!"

"Ah, but there's more. Erik and I were literally attached to the hip. Wherever I went he was there and vice versa. We were never far apart for long periods of time. The separation killed us and when we were together, it was electrifying. Meg swore she saw electric sparks shooting from each other when we stood by each other. He was the perfect man in every way. So polite and gentle as a lamb, though he did have his moments. He lost his temper easily and we did have a few heated arguments but making up was the best part.

"When we did fight it was always about Ray. Before I actually met Erik in person, I caught up with Ray Chandler. He was striving to be a guitar player in a band so I set him up with my own. It was good to see my old friend again, but there was something different. He still had his old charm but now it seemed like he got irritated all the time for the littlest reasons. He also took up smoking and drinking. It's a disgusting habit and I wanted him to quit but he stubbornly refused.

"One time he punched me but it was the booze. I forgave him. What else could I do? He was my best friend despite this distance between us. I loved him like a brother and I knew he would never hurt me intentionally. After that incident he cut back on his drinking but it didn't help much with his attitude. I told him about Erik and it was also the first time I admitted I was falling in love. I never been in love before so I wasn't sure how it felt, but I knew I loved Erik and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Ray didn't seem to be all that happy about it but he did want to meet him, as did Erik. So I arranged a date for the three of us to meet at my apartment. Once Ray walked through that door, World War III erupted and it wasn't pretty.

"They disagreed over everything! No matter what was said that evening, one or the other had an opinion. They criticized over each other's jobs and clothes. It was like watching a couple of two-year-olds going at it over a toy. And the toy was I. It got to the point where a contest was being done over who knew me the most. It got so out of control so I sent Ray home. He was getting drunk and I was worried a fight would break out. After that I made sure those two were far apart.

"They were jealous over the other and as much as I love the possessive side of Erik it got to the point where enough was enough. I was not at all head over heels over Ray. I love Erik but it didn't seem to be enough for him. Men."

She stopped when Meg began to snicker. She laughed along until the tears did begin to spill. Meg noticed how her saying his name wasn't as painful as it was before. Christine wiped away a tear before continuing:

"I wrote to my father about Erik and he wanted to meet him. So we flew back to my old hometown for a visit. Since I was dating my father's favorite singer you could just envision his joy. I was worried he would scare away Erik from his enthusiasm, but Erik didn't seem to mind. He listened to my father's playing before so they both had plenty to talk about. Erik never played violin before and he wanted to learn so my dad taught him. I was happy to see them getting along. Erik got along nicely with Meg and her mother and now my father. So the disaster with Ray didn't seem as bad as I originally thought before.

"When we came home we were discussing about doing a CD together. We talked about it briefly before and we decided let's do it. It would be fun and we would get some great publicity. He had a recording studio so we did everything with some help from his producer. He played and I sang and for a few songs we did duet. It was the best project I ever done and the sales hit the roof! Everyone loved it so much we decided to do a tour together promoting it.

"It was perfect timing. Our first anniversary was approaching so it was the perfect get away. We were going over to Europe with Paris in mind as our first destination. It would be the trip I would never forget if I lived to be a hundred.

"The show went well and since we didn't have to go to London in a few days we decided to stick around longer. It was late out one night and we went for a walk. We were being followed by a group of Paparazzi. They were calling for us, but mostly at Erik. They've been trying for years to get a picture of what is under the mask. It was their goal to know who the Phantom was.

"We tried to get away but one of the photographers pushed me. I fell and scraped my knee. I wasn't hurt too bad, but Erik became furious and went to punch the one who shoved me when they all grabbed him. The same guy who pushed me came over and ripped off his mask."

Christine paused to let her voice to rest and for the memories to resurface of that unbelievable night. She closed her eyes and she could still witness it all over again. Erik's anguish cry when his mask was gone, the mortified facades of those Paparazzi it was too much. The pain in Erik's beautiful blue eyes will forever haunt her mind.

She heard Meg's quiet weeping. Without having to say much she knew what he must have felt. Meg Gary was the same way when she told her about Paris. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath and went on.

"Not one single picture was taken. I thank whatever force prevented it for Erik's sake. Those cowards fled after they stared at him in disgust and shock. I heard this horrendous sobbing and realized it was Erik. He had his back to me, holding his face rocking back and forth, muttering all sorts of phrases towards himself. I couldn't believe what I heard! But the one that hit me the hardest was 'You can never love me'. I began to cry and I crawled over him, with his mask in my hand. I removed his hand so I could look at him. Really look at him.

"His right side was deformed but he had scars all over his face from numerous surgeries. His eyebrow was missing and there was a tiny scar underneath his eye. His cheek was a pale yellow warring with white. From the temple to his lower jaw, he had different textures of skin, due to the overlapping of skin from a malpractice surgery. His lips were two perfect curves and so was his nose. Unlike the others, I didn't see horror. Instead I saw this undeniable beauty and I fell in love with him all over again.

"I wiped away his tears and together we got ourselves back to the hotel. Erik had his mask on, yet he refused to look me in the eye. My knee was all right (there was a slight cut) but he made a fuss all over it. He was avoiding what happened but he wasn't going get away with it so easy. I asked him what happened and why he wouldn't talk to me. He blew up in my face. He never wanted me to see him. He tried to get corrected but he ended up with marks that never healed properly.

"He was hoping that I would love him for himself and he was convinced I would no longer look at him in the same way. I told him he was acting like a dumbass and that it didn't matter what he looked like I loved him. It was the first time I told him I really loved him. He was skeptical about it and claimed I had no idea what I was talking about. No girl would ever give him a second look when they saw what lay beneath and he saw the same reason for me to do the same.

"'How can you love a hideous face such as mine?' he asked and my first reaction was to hit him, but I grabbed his face and kissed him. I can still feel his tears on my skin as I kissed his mouth and then his marred cheek. I loved him with all my heart and I was trying to convey this to him through my actions. We both clung to each other as we cried. Our tears mingled together and it was the most beautiful moment in my life. Once we were able to compose ourselves he told me he loved me too.

"'It was love at first sight', he explained. The first time he saw me and heard my voice was on television. It's a box with a screen that shows different shows and people. Anyways, I was a guest on TRL. Erik took one look and found himself plastered to it. He couldn't believe the angelic voice he heard and he had to meet me. 'It was destiny,' Erik put it bluntly."

"And he started off with the letters," Meg interrupted, a goofy grin shining on her features.

Christine nodded. "When did you fall in love with him? From what you been telling me, I have to say when you actually met."

She shook her head. "You would think so but nope. It was his letters. Whenever I read them I felt like I knew the writer my whole life and he was now speaking to me. I fell in love with the man who wrote them before I met him and again when I saw his entire face without any barriers.

"We were so elated once we realized our feelings went so deep for each other. I know this might sound cliché, but that was the same night we made love for the first time on our anniversary. There are no words to describe it but it was incredible. I never felt anything so intense with Erik until then. It was like my soul was finally set free in his arms and it was beyond any words. I don't mean you should go sleep with the first guy you're serious with, but I knew Erik was THE ONE for me. We couldn't ignore this bond we shared and for the rest of the tour I found myself going to places I never thought possible to go to. It was wonderful."

"Sounds it," Meg said dreamily.

"When we returned to the States we decided to buy a house. At that point Meg and Mrs. Gary were no longer living with me. They bought their own apartment closer to the city where Meg worked. Erik and I moved towards Beverly Hills to a place that was private and secluded. We didn't want another repeat with the Paparazzi. I fell in love with the house instantly. It was a 19th century style Victorian mansion and it fit our moods and furniture perfectly. It was home.

"For the most part Ray never entered our lives all that much, except when we held a party or something. He usually had someone with him and he didn't start anything with Erik. It was just Erik and I in our peace. Last year, for my twenty-second birthday, he bought me this necklace."

Christine fingered the chain as Meg nodded in understanding.

"It was a token of our love. Erik would always joke about how he's the caterpillar and I would tell him if he was the caterpillar then so was I! But he would shake his head and reply with a smile, 'No you're not. You are the glorious butterfly that aspires the caterpillar to become one. That way she would fall in love with him'.

"'But she falls in love with caterpillar and wants him to stay the way he is. It makes him appreciate life the way it is and he is not stuck up like the other male butterflies.'

"He would respond, 'What if he wants to be a butterfly?'

"And I go, 'Well, too bad. I love him the way he is.'

"It was our inside joke and when he found this he had to buy it for me. I wore it everyday, no matter what I wore. This necklace was glued to my skin and I was never going to take it off."

"Your relationship sounds like out of a fairy tale! I can't see why there could be any problems."

"There was though. They weren't that bad and wouldn't be the reason for why we ended. Starting with my father. I've been trying for years to get him to move in with me, but he refused. He doesn't like California's weather, he prefers Michigan's unpredictable climate. And my mother is buried in Roland and he didn't want to be separated from her. So I try to visit as much as I can. Erik would come with me if he wasn't busy, which of course made my dad's day. He loved Erik like a son and he loved him like a father.

"Sadly, my dad had heart problems. He had a history of minor attacks for as long as I could remember, but it wasn't until after my birthday when he had a major heart attack. Erik, me, and the gang all flew out to see him. Ray had other plans so he couldn't go."

Christine's voice wavered and failed miserably to hold it in.

"He was so horrible looking! He laid, lifeless, on the bed hooked up to all these tubes and machines. I stayed by his side for a week, praying for a miracle. Erik stood by my side and did everything he could think of to help my father. We sang and he would play my father's violin. He would smile and mouth 'Thank you' and I thought he would make it. One day, while I finished humming a lullaby he would sing to me when I was younger, I bent to kiss him and he was cold. I panic. I called for Erik and within seconds he was there, trying to calm me down. I cried hysterically and he held me. I knew he was gone. The man who gave me my voice and was my everything was gone.

"Erik and I remained there for the funeral. God bless the man for sticking by my grouchy moods and me. I was so out of touch that I would pick fights with him for no reason. Erik was so understanding and he let me take my frustration out on him without any complaints. He was my Angel there.

"We returned home when I was feeling better. Erik never spoke much about his parents, but after going through my father's funeral, Erik opened up a bit.

"His dad came from a well-respected family. He was a good man and a very talented musician. The Destlers' were known for their musical prodigies since, well, this era I guess. He married a beautiful woman (Margaret) and within the first year of their marriage, Erik was conceived. Sadly, his father died before Erik was born. Now Margaret, Erik said, was spoiled to say the least and she expected her children to be as 'attractive' as she. Imagine her shock when he was born. Erik told me she was as fake as anyone could be. To put it mildly, she was a bitch. And though she _did _love her son she had a funny way of showing it. She forced him to wear a mask and she would rarely let Erik out of the house. He ran away at sixteen and lived with a friend, Nathan Kappa. Like his father, Erik had a passion for music and an exquisite voice. Nathan convinced Erik to pursue his talent and within a few months Erik was making it big. That was the birth of the Phantom.

"Being back at home was refreshing though the winds were beginning to shift. Ray and Erik were once again at each other's throats and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Both wanted me to do a CD with them at the same time. They couldn't handle the fact that I could do both, it had to be one. So I turn them both down until they learned how to get along.

"But when Ray and Erik weren't fighting it was nice and quiet. Erik and I were together for a couple of years and I knew I wanted to marry him. I often hinted we should take the next step, but he never said anything. So I assumed either he wasn't ready for that sort of commitment or that he was and he was waiting for the perfect timing to pop the question. I knew he was leery about his face if he would pass it on, but I assured him that if it happens it wouldn't bother me. I wanted to have kids, specifically his, but he seemed to be distant on the topic. He still harbored the fear I would leave him, though I gave him no reason to. I loved him and I never wanted to stay apart from him.

"Then one night we got into a heated fight. Ray invited me to go on a hiking trip and Erik didn't want me to go. It was only going to be for a few days and Erik was dead set that Ray was up to something. I had to draw the line there. I knew Ray for a long time and he would never take advantage of another's girl. It wasn't in his nature. I tried to tell him he had nothing to fear. If Ray did try to pull something, then I'll cut the trip short and come home. Then if he wants to go at Ray afterwards then okay. But I knew nothing would happen between us.

"Erik wasn't so sure about it. He told me this before, but he suspected that Ray had feelings for me. I thought he was joking. I mean, Ray and I knew each other since we were in diapers and I always saw him like a brother and nothing more. Yeah, I'll admit, that when we met up with each other I couldn't help but feel a little attracted to him. What girl wouldn't? But he was still the same old Ray. The one that would play house with me and the one who would dump worms down my shirt. He was Ray Chandler. The boy next door and there wouldn't have been a future.

"So we ended up saying things we didn't mean. I felt bad but Erik was becoming too possessive. If he wanted to go on a trip with his friends, I would let him. Even if he had a girl as a best friend. I would still let him because I _trust _him. The next morning I woke up to an empty bed. All of his belongings were missing. It was like he vanished into thin air. There was no note no nothing!" She broke down into heart wrenching sobs.

"He just left?" Meg gasped. "Why? It couldn't have been over Ray!"

"I don't know," Christine confessed. "I did everything I could to find him. I called his phone, agent, friends, anyone I could think of! Meg and I went to the places he hung out and there was no sign of Erik anywhere. No one seen or heard from him. I convinced myself he was out blowing off some steam and he'll return any day. I waited for days that turned into weeks and there was still no word from him. I assumed the worse that he didn't love me anymore. I just shut down. Nothing could have made me feel better. Everything I saw reminded me of him and what we had.

"It was a tough time for me and I realized I couldn't sing without thinking of him. And this necklace only kept reminding me of our promises. I stopped wearing the necklace and after a couple of months I decided to give up my career."

"Ah, so that's why you didn't want to sing anymore. I thought that was strange," Meg replied. "Oh Christine, I'm so sorry that happened! I had no idea. But how does the Vicomte and Ray fit into your sorrows?"

"Remember how I said Ray changed? Well, first off, he was glad Erik was gone. The man practically gloated while I wallow in my self-pity. He began asking me out continuously and I kept turning him down. As much as I despised Erik for leaving me with a broken heart, I couldn't let him go. There will always be a small part of me that still hangs onto this hope he'll come back. I still love him. Ray couldn't understand and when I told him Angel wasn't coming back anymore, he snapped. He hit me until I gave in and ever since he's been controlling my life and my career.

"I had to go back and sing. If I tried anything funny he would punish me. At that moment I hated my childhood friend. More than I could possibly say! He abused me not only physically but emotionally as well. He enjoyed violating me for his perverse pleasure and using me as his little puppet. I couldn't escape from this Hell. My friends were Ray's friends so they wouldn't believe me if I told them. And Meg and Mrs. Gary couldn't tell something was wrong from my fake cheery disposition."

"Do you think the Vicomte is like Ray?" the blonde asked softly.

"I don't know. Everyone here reminds me of someone I know, despite the difference in personalities. For all I know, Raoul could be a nice guy and nothing more. But I don't want to 'assume' he is what he appears to be. I can't let Christine Daae go through with what I been through. It's my way of making it up to her by disrupting her career."

"That's very noble of you," Meg commented. "I don't what to say but I'm sorry that happened. I would hate to see my friend go through such torture. You're very brave for putting it up with that fiend."

She laughed, not in good humor but as a release. "Thanks. I feel so much better now than I have in a long time. But please you mustn't tell anyone! I promised your mother I wouldn't speak a word and you must promise me that this goes unspoken."

The ballet dancer gripped her hand and squeezed reassuringly. "I promise. You have my word Christine. I'm glad you confided in me. You may not be my Christine but I still consider you as a friend."

Tears began gushing out of Christine's hazel eyes. "T-thank you Meg. I consider you as my friend as well."

Meg grinned. "Now that's out let's go inside, shall we? I would like to know more about my counterpart!"

"I don't know if that's a good thing," Christine told her as both girls left arm-in-arm.

Hidden in the shadows, a gleaming porcelain mask glowed through the darkness unnoticed. A lone tear fell to the ground.

TBC…


	8. Breakaway

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Breakaway". They belong to Kelly Clarkson and only Kelly. I'm just borrowing them because they fit in with the story.

A/N: Thanks again you all for the reviews and I'm glad to see I picked up some new readers as well! I hope you all continue in reading this. Also, too in the scene with Carlotta in _Il Muto _after she runs off stage she cries out something. Now I could never figure what she said so on the subtitle in the movie it said it was "Mother!" But that doesn't seem right to me, so if anyone knows could you tell me in a review so I can fix it? Thanks!

And another big thanks to my beta, Megan, for doing such a terrific job!

Chapter 8- Breakaway

Christine hated going back on her word, but this time it was different. Meg was her friend (even in this time) and she trusted her to keep her promise. Megan Gary would so there would stand the reason this one would as well. Madame Giry would never know and she was okay with that.

Rehearsals continued on as Christine wandered over to watch the performers practice. She found a group of the ballet dancers sitting on the stage complaining about their aching limbs. Madame Giry was nowhere in sight that Christine could tell.

"I don't feel so stretched out anymore," one commented. "My legs hurt and so does my feet. I hate it."

All the girls murmured in agreement. Christine smiled with amusement at their "stretching" and saw what was the problem. They weren't holding it out long enough (_And with girls dancing their whole lives you think they would_, she thought) and they really weren't putting much effort into it.

Smirking, Christine went over and stood in front of them. Making sure she was in eyesight for all of them, she spread out her legs and held her arms straight out. Winking at Meg, she leaned towards the right with her left arm poised over her head and the right hanging across her stomach. She counted to fifteen and repeated the same movements by switching the position of her arms on the right.

The girls stared at her sudden participation. A couple pointed, whispering to each other and laughed. Meg smiled broadly and copied Christine's movements. Annette joined in after a while and soon they all followed suit.

Christine stretched out her left leg as she went down on the right. Using her left arm for support, she faced the back raising her right arm as high as she could reach. The girls mimicked her and did the same on the other side.

These were the stretches Christine did every morning and before every show. It loosens her up and figured the same could apply to these girls. The last thing she was going to do would be a bit… humorous and probably horrifying.

Lying on her back, Christine brought her legs into her chest and then grabbing her right ankle she pulled it out as far as she could. She did the same on the left and already the girls were giggling at the new position. The next one would be scandalous.

Christine brought her feet together, still lying down, with her knees pointing out. She held onto her thighs as she opened both legs out. She remembered when she first done this, she felt she was giving birth, but it did the muscles justice. The girls gasped at such boldness and refused to follow suit.

Meg, wary of this, did it anyways to back up Christine who didn't seem to mind the brazenness that she displayed. Then Christine brought her legs back together and stood up. The rest did as well.

At that moment, Antoinette walked in just in time to witness the final stretch. Her jaw fell ungracefully and then her countenance narrowed disapprovingly.

"Girls!" she snapped. "Enough of this! Christine, I wish to speak to you. Meg, I'm placing you in charge. Start your warm-ups or I'll extend the rehearsal time. Christine!"

Christine followed the older woman out and glanced back at Meg who tried not to look at her. _Something's not right._

Once they were out of earshot, Antoinette turned on her. "Christine, I asked you before not to speak a word to anyone, especially my daughter."

Christine gulped. _But Meg promised! Meg Gary always did… drat Giry!_

"She told me everything about you. And… I'm glad you did." Her voice softened up, as did her face.

Christine did a double take. "Wha, what?"

"Excuse me from earlier of not asking about your situation. I knew something dreadful happened to you, I could tell in your eyes. Something like that you shouldn't hold back on since the Vicomte is related to someone you know. I'll do my best to keep him away from you… and Christine."

The brunette felt tears swarming. "Thank you Madame Giry. So I take it you're not mad?"

"Of course not child, not unless what Meg told me isn't true. But I doubt that. She also told me about an Erik."

A large lump rose in her throat. "S-she did?"

The woman nodded. "I admit his departure was shocking to say the least. I thought that your kind of relationship would have resulted into marriage. From what Meg said it sounded like the two of you were in love."

"Yeah." She sighed. "I thought so too."

"He didn't contact you in any way?"

Christine shook her ebony curls. "Not a word to me or anyone else. I guess he was tired of me."

"I wouldn't say that child and don't think it!" Antoinette scolded. "I'm sure he'll come back to you. A love like that cannot disappear."

"Does Christine have an Erik?" she asked.

Something flashed in Madame Giry's gray eyes before she shook her head. "I don't know any Eriks I'm afraid, my dear. And neither does she."

"Oh." Christine fiddled with her fingers and stared at the ground. _I guess I know I won't be expecting any surprises._

"Is that all?" Antoinette questioned.

"Well, there's one thing. Do you know any stores that carries good fabrics?"

* * *

It was hard work but it was worth it at the end.

Christine sat back and admired her handiwork—a pair of black hip huggers with a matching halter top that she sewn in little gems around the O of the chest and the straps to tie it up.

Antoinette was surprised by her question and after she explained her need for "normal" clothing, the ballet instructor was leery about giving in to her request. After a few "please" she gave in.

"As long as you keep them hidden," she told her firmly. "And please do as I say."

Agreeing, Christine went to the shops right away and found all the necessary materials. Once she bought everything and found a sewing machine she set to work.

Christine knew her measurements and the pattern in mind so she was thankful she didn't need to rely on anything else. She worked non-stop taking a few breaks in between, and voila. A new outfit for herself.

She decided with the leftover fabrics she could make another one later. But for now this one would suffice.

She tried it on and sure enough it was the perfect fit. She admired the way in which the color contrasted with her pale flesh. She never was much into black before until Erik came along. _Erik…_

She smiled sadly and knew the reason she designed it was that she had him on her mind. _So much for moving on_, she thought.

_But you never were_ came the inner voice.

Sighing, she took them off and went back to the hot wool dress. The temperatures were dropping and snow was starting to fall. She could hear the chorus girls chatter with delight.

Her head hung low. She longed to join in their mirth, but decided against it. She was still in character, even though she broke the rules a few times.

The extra material was packed away along with the sewing machine. She picked up the new outfit and folded them neatly. Checking once more that everything was picked up; she headed to her dressing room.

Hurrying inside, Christine locked the door. She wanted no interruptions or distractions. She walked over to the vanity, opened the drawer, and stopped.

The butterfly necklace looked up at her, almost pleading to be let out from its prison.

"Why am I letting it get to me?" she asked herself. Finding no answer, she set the clothes on top of it. She paused and then switched it so the necklace was on top instead. She grinned to herself. _Better._

She turned on her heel with her back to the large mirror and paused. The tingling feeling of being watched consumed her. She glanced briefly behind her shoulder and only saw her reflection. Her brow furrowed and she tentatively moved closer until she was a breath away from the glass. Raising a hand, she touched the cool surface, staring hard as if peering through.

_How come whenever I feel this I'm drawn to this mirror? _She thought. _Does Daae feel the same way as I do? _

A crazy, yet absurd notion came to mind. What if there _is _something lurking on the other side of the mirror? She laughed to herself and shook her head. _Impossible. That's only in the movies and this is no horror flick. _

But it still didn't help ease her erratic mind, already conjuring millions of disturbing images of a madman busting through the mirror with the intent of doing harm to her. A Mike Myers looking fellow came to mind with a sharp knife in his wielding hand or a knife-finger nailed Freddy. She called herself silly and moved away from the mirror.

Her inquisitive brown eyes lingered on the mirror for a few moments longer before she looked away and diagnosed it as paranoia. She's been having that a lot lately since the Vicomte has been coming to the opera house in hopes to see her.

Christine would dodge him and make up excuses for his invitations to dinner or anything else if he caught her. But for the most part, she didn't have to brush him off on her own. True to her word, Madame Giry made sure that Raoul wouldn't get as far to her dressing room or any places Christine might be at. The aristocrat was desperate to spend time with Christine and even though he would leave, it was obvious that he refused to believe of her constant "headaches".

You think by now he got the hint, but I guess this guy can't take "no" for an answer. Boy, he is sure in for a rude awakening.

Deciding to no longer reflect on the matter, Christine left in search for Meg. She needed some girl talk with a best friend.

* * *

Erik was highly exasperated with the opera's new patron. The hardheaded boy could not follow simple instructions or hints!

He slammed his fist against the stonewall, ignoring the stinging pain and dampness on his skin. He was thankful that little Giry and Antoinette were helping him, even if the former doesn't know it, but it wasn't enough. It only seemed to fuel the fool to continue to seek out Christine's company.

"What your pretty face and fancy lifestyle isn't enough?" he questioned to the unseen Vicomte.

He just finished spying on the Vicomte as Antoinette once more told the befuddled lad that Christine was tired and she requested no visitors. The Vicomte was crestfallen but he was persistent as to why he could never see her whenever he comes.

Loyal Antoinette shrugged and told him it was her wish and there was nothing she could do but respect her demands. This rejection crushed the boy's ego and it made Erik overjoyed with triumph. How good it felt to turn those hopeful and petty blue eyes into pools of sadness and humiliation. He probably couldn't figure out why this one girl was resisting his charms while any other female would fall at his feet. Erik knew and no money in the world could buy his precious angel.

But Erik still wasn't happy that he vowed to come back the next day. Upset, he went over to the costume room where she spent the most part of her day at and to his dismay she wasn't there.

He didn't have much time to wait for the throbbing of his hand brought him back to his senses and reluctantly he returned to his lair. He cast a longing look to the mannequin he had made from his own hands a couple years ago and shifted his attention to the doll's outfit. A beautiful satiny gown covered the petite doll with a frilly lace veil on top of the brown curls. He wanted his love to wear it on their wedding day and many nights hasn't passed when his dreams didn't have the dress in them. How long would it be until it comes true? Will it ever come to pass?

He tore himself away from the lifelike doll and began to clean his bloodied hand in the lake. While he wrapped a bandage around his hand, Erik began thinking about the latest chain of events taking place in the Opera Populaire. Besides the annoying Vicomte, Erik sensed something wrong in Antoinette's brood.

About a week ago, the blonde ballet dancer seemed to be more aware of her surroundings than ever before. During _Hannibal _little Giry was in awed over the handsome Vicomte and now… Now, whenever she sees him those adoring eyes turned into bitter hatred. He couldn't fathom as to what happened to her once childish attraction to the Vicomte. He never realized that harmless Meg could possess such negativity towards any being!

_I wouldn't be surprised if it had to with Christine's relations to the fop_, he thought. Then again, he had to admit of his surprise when she rejected the pretty boy. He knew that such human relationships were one of a kind and the ones people seek in their companions. Old friends would want to spend all their time together catching up, but not Christine. She was holding back. Good. It made it possible for him to swindle in and win her affections.

As he pondered, the caverns were suddenly filled with Carlotta's heavily accented voice. He covered his ears, wincing, but to no prevail could he block out the hideous sound. His disgust turned into anger since the bumbling fools refused to obey orders. He wanted Christine to perform as Countess but part of him knew it would have been pointless. She wasn't singing and even if those managers _did _try to push her to do the role she most likely turned them down.

Sighing, he hoped that it wouldn't be long until the Christine he fell in love with returned. Oh how he missed listening to that heavenly voice, singing to him and only him. Erik had to use his own imagination in order to hear her voice for she hasn't sang and hearing only Carlotta was quickly sending him closer to the asylum. He wasn't sure if he could put up with that inferno racket much longer before he cracked. And his lair was situated underneath the stage so the latter would occur soon if he didn't do something.

He made up his mind and decided to hunt for Christine. At least getting an eyeful would calm the raging nerves to kill anything in his path. He decided to try her dressing room and she still wasn't there. _She might be with little Giry_, he mused. But he didn't have much time to think on it. Glancing down to the ground, his heart immediately stopped beating.

Footprints were imprinted in the dust of the dirty floor and they were not his.

* * *

"Christine I'm so sorry that I told Maman!" Meg cried once Christine entered their room. "I didn't mean to break your promise so fast! I thought… I was doing the right thing because Maman knows so much that happens here and she might help and—"

"Meg! Calm down. It's okay. Please don't freak out," the brunette said soothingly as she sat next to the guilt-ridden blonde. "Your mother was glad you did and me for telling you."

"So you're not mad?"

Christine shook her head and placed her hand over hers. "No I'm not so don't think that I am."

"How can you not be? I went against your word!" Meg sobbed.

"Meg I did as well! Your mother didn't want me to tell anyone about myself and I did. To you. Don't be upset."

Meg sniffled and lowered her eyes. "I wanted to help. I miss her so much!"

"There, there. I understand. I miss my Meg too but you don't see me blubbering over it. I bet she would have wanted you to be strong instead of lamenting over something you can't control."

"Do you really think so?" she asked softly, hope rising in her voice.

"Absolutely! Because that's what I want my friend to do."

Meg let out a small smile and hugged Christine. "Thank you. She's lucky to have such a wise friend like you," she spoke sincerely, thinking of the other Meg. "Though I'm afraid Christine and I aren't that meaningful."

"Yes you are. Maybe not in the way like I am or Megan, but in your own way you too are."

"It's strange for me to hear you say such things. I keep forgetting that you are not my Christine."

"That's all right. I see you as Meg Gary, though her brazenness is more apparent and you're far from that."

Meg raised a light golden brow and smirked. "She's not chaste?"

"She is! I didn't mean it in that way," Christine rushed through.

Meg laughed. "I'm kidding of course! I've been meaning to ask you, but how do you like _Il Muto? _You've been watching us rehearse all the time."

"It's funny," she replied. "Something I never expected to see in this period anyways."

"Yes but the rich loves it. Raoul is going to attend, you know that right?"

Christine sighed. "I'm afraid so. He's the patron after all. But I don't think it will be that bad with you, Madame Giry, and the so-called Opera Ghost butting in. But it won't last long if he's anything like my Ray. When there's something he wants he keeps going until he gets it."

"Well, that won't happen I can assure you. The Ghost has always had a liking to Christine so you're well protected if he's involved."

"Wait a second. I thought you were afraid of him?"

Meg nodded like crazy. "I am! But he can be a gentleman when he wants to be, if you can say that about a ghost. One of the stagehands tried to grab me once and the Phantom scared him so badly that the poor soul apologized for his rude behavior! He does that sometimes for us girls."

"Meg, do you have any idea how silly that sounds? Ghosts don't exist and I'm not saying that because she believes in that. That stagehand probably got a scare from another. A follower-of-the-books-in-proper-behavior kind of guy."

"But **he **does exist! Maman is acquainted with him! She's the only person he entrusts to handle his affairs!"

_Forget it girl. Superstitions never leave. _Slouching, Christine slowly shook her head. "Never mind."

"Like I was saying before, are you going to attend the opera tomorrow evening?"

"I might. Will I be using Box Five again?" Half of Christine didn't want to experience the ordeal again, but another half was anticipating the thrill once more.

"Not unless you wish to sit with Vicomte."

"WHAT!"

"The Vicomte bought it for his use," Meg repeated.

"Isn't that against the Ghost's orders?"

"It is. But the Vicomte pressured the managers to sell it to him so once and for all show there's no Ghost. Messieurs Andre and Firmin were more than willing to oblige in hopes this defiance will end this 'silly nonsense'! Such stupidity they're using."

"But if it doesn't work?"

"Then I cannot be certain. Maman believes that everyone should obey without questions or doubt, but his wrath is what I'm afraid of. If he is displeased (which surely he is) then it's unpredictable with what he might have planned. No one can mark his moves."

"Great. Then I'll watch from the wings. It's the next best view of the stage."

"Wear the butterfly!" Meg happily cried all of a sudden. "I love it and you should wear it often."

"I don't know…" Christine wasn't all together sure if it'd be the best to wear the necklace. Would that mean she moved on from Erik? Or would it be her hope that he will return soon?

"Please?" She pleaded her blue eyes glistening.

Christine took one look and lost. "Fine. I'll wear it. Only for tonight."

"Terrific! You shouldn't stop wearing it because of past actions. Wear it for the future!"

_Wear it for the future. Which future is what I'm afraid of._

* * *

The show would start in minutes and Christine headed over for a last fast chat with Meg.

"Good luck. You'll do great!"

"Thanks. I'm so nervous. This is my first slight major role. I'm glad it's silent. My singing is as bad as Carlotta's. And I'm a chorus girl!"

Since the demands of the roles weren't carried out, Meg was placed as the Pageboy with Carlotta as the Countess.

"You'll do fine. Relax and have fun."

"I will." She winked. "Oh! There's my cue! Have fun Christine and don't laugh at me!"

Meg scurried off behind Carlotta to sit on the bed just as the curtain revealed the "lovers".

The Spanish singer began belching out her notes just as Meg glanced over to Christine, making a face that the brunette couldn't help but snicker. Whoever thought this woman is great has to be deaf.

Antoinette came up beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Box Five couldn't be reserved for you. The Vicomte insisted—"

"I know. Meg told me about it. I don't mind actually. I had sort of a bad vibe from it before and I didn't feel like the getting scared again."

Antoinette stared blankly at her and Christine chuckled uneasily. _Watch your slang!_

"But I'm sure it was someone playing a trick on me."

Antoinette didn't reply. She knew whom that "someone" was but wasn't going to comment. "Well, word to the wise my dear, be careful afterwards. The Vicomte will look for you."

Christine nodded understandingly. She knew it would be inevitable.

The older woman's eyes wandered to the adorning jewel atop of the young girl's chest and smiled. "I do not recognize that lovely necklace to be Christine's. I take it must belong to you."

Christine lightly tapped it, nodding. "It is. It's a gift from… a friend. Meg insisted that I wear it."

"I see why it's so beautiful. Your friend, he has good tastes I see."

Before the brunette could respond, Antoinette flashed her a knowing smile before leaving to attend to some of the _corps _costumes. There truly was nothing to hide from that woman.

"_Serafimo! Away with this pretense! _

_You cannot speak but kiss me in my husband's absence!"_

Christine shifted back to the show and giggled as they "kissed", absently rubbing the pendant. Her eyes wandered from the stage to scan the full house and then up to Box Five. Sure enough, Raoul de Chagny sat up there alone with a bored countenance.

She didn't mean to stare for so long, but he caught her attention and smiled. It sent chills down her spine and Christine averted her eyes away. She clasped the butterfly tightly trying to refocus on the opera.

* * *

Not following his orders for the opera, Erik was fine with that, but selling his box? He was NOT okay with that.

Those fools know better than to sell my box! And that boy is pushing my patience too far!

Tossing his cloak to cover his face, Erik walked out of the secret door to stand near the chandelier. Glaring spitefully at the pathetic crowd, Erik murmured, "The Phantom will make his displeasure known."

* * *

Christine silently applauded the singers as they finished the chorus when a booming, menacing tone echoing throughout the Opera Populaire:

"_Did I not **instruct **that Box Five was to be **kept **empty!"_

Christine heard her friend gasp and cry out, "It's him! The Phantom of the Opera!"

Christine looked up to the ceiling and for a moment thought she saw a dark figure standing behind the extravagant chandelier. _My mind must be playing tricks on me._

But the dangerous hint of the unknown Opera Ghost caused her to tremble. _My God! What if Meg is right after all? But it can't! It can't! But who else would be that pissed off?_

As she contemplated all this, another voice popped into her head. Something about that dark voice seemed… comforting. _I must be loosing my marbles! How can I find a threat to be comforting?_

The music started up again as soon as Carlotta came back from the wings, hoping to make the audience forget the intruder.

"_Poor fool he makes me laugh! Ha ha ha coac-k!"_

Christine's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widen, at the prima donna's untimely mishap.

Carlotta tried once more and ended up in a fit of more "co-acks".

Even though it was hilarious, Christine couldn't bring herself to laugh at her misfortune like the others. This could end Carlotta's long running career and damage her reputation as a respectable singer. Though there wasn't much to work with "respectable", nonetheless it would destroy her persona and make her the laughing stock in Paris.

"Mother!" the diva shouted as she ran off the stage. The performers were all confused and unsure what to do and all were running off in opposite directions as the curtains closed.

The managers came out, both looking quite perplexed and worried.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize. The performance will continue in ten minutes time with the role of the Countess will resume with Signora Carlotta Giudicelli," announced Firmin. "The Signora is feeling better and it was only a lapse."

"Meanwhile, we will like to give you the ballet of Act III of tonight's opera," followed Andre.

Both bowed and hurried off so the ballet could begin.

Christine looked out to Box Five and to her horror she found it empty. Feeling frightfully ill, Christine took off just as Buquet chased after the Phantom.

* * *

Christine pushed her way through searching for Meg or Madame Giry. She knew Raoul would come here to see if she was all right and probably confront her on her constant rejections.

Taking a handful of her skirts, she moved faster towards her dressing room. She grabbed her necklace for some comfort but not finding any.

_Home free, _she thought triumphantly as the familiar door came into view.

She laid her hand on the doorknob, turning it, only to feel another on top of hers.

Her eyes roved up the arm connected to the hand and into a very worried Vicomte de Chagny.

"R-raoul!" she stammered, fear gripping her in its iron like coil. "I-I didn't know you were here."

"Christine." One word, one name that could hold so many meanings from the way it's spoke. She heard it many times in many tones of anger, hate, and rarely lovingly. But the way Raoul just said her name it was full of concern.

"Madame Giry and your friend informed me on your lack of health. I hope everything is all right."

She mechanically nodded unsure about the direction he was heading.

A relieved smile broke across his features and his worries lessened. "Good. I hope I'm not the cause of your illness. I would be crushed to know I was to be put the blame on it. I'm concerned about you being here, but the good Madame insisted you're in no danger whatsoever. Is that true?"

"N-no," she got out. "I am not."

His eyebrows furrowed and then relaxed. "Well if that's it—"

"It is."

Screams rang through the corridors and Christine watched as a mass of people rushed over to where the commotion took place. Soon it was she and Raoul alone in the hallway. _No please!_

Raoul scrutinized her carefully and finally released her hand. "Promise me one day we'll talk and no interruptions or excuses. I miss you Christine."

She didn't say anything and taking it as a hint, he left without another word.

Christine stood there for a few seconds letting the encounter sink in. She became light-headed and felt herself slipping into the oblivion. She felt a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, catching her. She gazed up and saw a shining scowling white mask before succumbing into darkness.

* * *

Christine woke a few hours later, her head slightly pained.

"Christine!" In seconds, Meg was at her bedside and holding her hand with worry etched in her small face. "Is it…?"

Groaning, she knew what the blonde meant. "No it's still Christine Dallas."

Meg's features fell but she bounced back with relief. "Sorry but I thought… well never mind. Are you all right now?"

"What happened?"

"You fainted. Maman and I found you here." An amused, wry grin was plastered on her rosy lips.

The brunette frowned, trying to remember what happened and then it hit her all at once. Raoul… the mask. It couldn't have been…?

"Do you know how you came to be in here?" Meg asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She shrugged. "I was heading to my dressing room when I ran into Raoul."

"The Vicomte? He didn't hurt you did he? If he did I will—"

"No! In fact it was the opposite. He was… concerned and sweet for my well being. He didn't accuse me of anything and he wasn't at all mad."

"Really? But if it was Ray?"

"He would have hit me. And even though we were alone for a short time he didn't react like Ray normally would."

"You were alone?" squealed Meg. "You were so lucky Christine!"

"Tell me about it."

"All right—"

"Figure of speech my dear."

"Oh. Then what happened?"

"He'd left. Well, before he wanted to know if I was in any trouble. I told him I wasn't and he left. I must have fainted afterwards but the last thing I saw was… forget it. He was on my mind anyways so I probably imagined it."

"Are you positive?" Meg didn't sound quite so sure, but she let it go.

"Yeah. Raoul might have seen me and put me here. Meg, did something happen last night? Everyone was rushing towards the stage when I heard the ballet scream."

Meg bit her lower lip before answering. "Joseph Buquet is dead."

"What?" Christine's jaw dropped.

"During the dance, he fell from the rafters. He was hung! It was the Phantom's doing I bet. He was so upset that his box was sold…"

"Are you sure it wasn't a suicide?"

Meg shook her blonde curls. "No. He was hung by the Punjab lasso—the Phantom's weapon."

"But what if it was suicide? He probably pinned it on the Phantom for some sick joke."

The girl sighed. "Christine, it was no suicide. Joseph Buquet was murdered by the Phantom's hand and now the managers are more fearful than ever. They're afraid they'll be the Ghost's next victims."

"This is all tomfoolery," Christine muttered.

"Believe what you want Christine Dallas, but I know it was the Phantom. And so does everyone else."

Sighing, Christine knew she wasn't going to win this battle. Not when the blonde dancer was high strung on the subject. "Will anyone miss him?"

"Probably not," Meg confessed. "He never was that popular with anyone, except with his stories."

"From what your mother told me he was a complete scoundrel, but I think I will miss him for his stories. They were pretty imaginative when you think about it."

"You have too much of a good heart," Meg commented. "Like her. Is there anything you want since you're up and all?"

"No thanks. I think I'll relax for a bit."

"Very well. I'll talk to you later." Meg squeezed her hand and walked out.

When she was gone, Christine sat up in bed, thinking over what her friend told her. It was a pity that someone died. No one deserves to die in that way even if he was a pervert and a drunk. Except Ray would be an exception in her mind.

Her thoughts wandered over to Raoul and his act of kindness and concern. Just because he looks like Ray doesn't completely mean he'll turn out to be a monster. Christine almost felt bad for the way she treated him, but it was only done out of protection for herself and Daae. There was still a chance that he was only putting up a front to hide his true nature. A nature of which she didn't want to be reacquainted with.

She shivered at the possibility of what could have happened if he did lash out at her. _No! I don't care if he happens to be the incarnation of Joe Friday, I won't have nothing to do with him._

She reached out and touched her necklace. It was still around her neck, safe and sound. Christine stroked it while thinking of her coming to being here as coincidental. Perhaps she wasn't cast here to keep the Vicomte away from Daae, what if this was something that was trying to tell her about herself. She couldn't deny that it was odd that she was part of a past life the music connection was obvious. And this was an Opera house and she had no escape from it. Could this be a second chance of some sort? And if it was… will she be able to accept it?

"Only one way to find out," she mumbled. Shaking, she stood up and hustled over to the door. She opened the door and checked to see if she was alone before reenacting Meg's previous steps to the rooftop. That was where she found the burning desire to sing her lungs out for all to hear and she assumed it was the best place to go.

She kept looking back, making sure she was alone. She didn't want to explain to anyone what she was about to do.

Finally, she reached the door and opened it to greet the cool air. A light frost collected on the ground and over the majestic statues. It was a breathtaking sight—the beginning of snow was setting in and the silvery moonlight highlighting the crystals.

She crept closer to the edge, her breath catching at the lovely sights before her eyes once more. She closed her eyes and found the chill breeze comforting as another dusting of snow started to fall.

Here she stood, high above the city and almost to the Heavens, reveling in the solitude she found at last. It was so peaceful… it made her forget the worse times of her life. Here, she had no worries or fears. She was only Christine, a singer waiting for her song to take flight.

She knew Erik would have loved this. That was the only regret they had when in Paris. They never got around to visit the opera house, but now it seemed perfect to make up for loss time.

Exhaling deeply, Christine opened her mouth with words pouring straight from her soul:

_"Grew up in a small town_

_and when the rain would fall down_

_I'd just stare out my window_

_dreaming of what could be_

_and if I'd end up happy_

_I would pray…_

_Trying hard not to reach out,_

_but when I tried to speak out_

_felt like no one could hear me_

_wanted to belong here_

_but something felt so wrong here_

_So I prayed I could breakaway…"_

Her brown eyes opened as her voice grew louder, the memories once so distant now came back in crashing waves. The good and bad clashed together and once again Christine felt the demons exorcising from her heart.

_"I'll spread my wings_

_And I'll learn how to fly_

_I'll do what it takes _

_Till I touch the sky_

_And I'll make a wish,_

_Take a chance, _

_Make a change,_

_And breakaway._

_Out of the darkness _

_And into the sun_

_But I won't forget all the ones that I love_

_I'll take a risk,_

_Take a chance, _

_Make a change,_

_And breakaway…"_

Tears glistened as her voice rang out, echoing from all around, a harmonious conflicting tone but slowly the pain faded away as she continued:

_"Want to feel the warm breeze_

_Sleep under a palm tree_

_Feel the rush of the ocean_

_Get on board a fast train_

_Travel on a jet plane_

_Far away and breakaway…"_

The soprano cried out in passion with the chorus, her soul feeling like it was being ripped from her body to soar once more in the clouds. Her body shook as the wind picked up, her curls flying all over, but it wasn't enough. The only time she felt this euphoria was when she was lost in Erik's hold, his sultry blue eyes burning with every ounce of desire and love whenever they were one. Her mind fixated on his face as she sang out with her whole heart:

_"Buildings with a hundred floors_

_Swinging round revolving doors_

_Maybe I don't know where they'll take me but_

_gotta keep moving on and moving on_

_Fly away breakaway…_

_I'll spread my wings_

_And I'll learn how to fly_

_Though it's not easy_

_To tell you goodbye_

_I gotta take a risk,_

_Take a chance,_

_Make a change,_

_And breakaway_

_Out of the darkness_

_And into the sun_

_But I won't forget_

_The place I come from_

_I gotta take a risk,_

_Take a chance,_

_Make a change,_

_And breakaway…"_

Christine's voice softly began to crack, but she managed to keep coming, as tears streamed down her pale face.

_"Breakaway…"_

She choked back a sob as the last words, barely a ghost of a whisper, came out:

_"Breakaway…"_

Christine collapsed to her knees, crying as the glorious pleasure caused the barriers to tumble and fall that she built around her heart. She was free from the bonds and ghosts of her past. There was no more Ray to hold her down.

"I'm free!" she whispered, the words hardly daring to be true. And she had the Opera Populaire and Meg to thank. If it hadn't been for Meg to bring her here she wouldn't have found the courage to truly sing from the depths of her spirit as Erik once done.

Though he caused her pain and grieve, she loved him more than ever and all she wanted was to have the feeling of being loved once more within her grasp. And it could only come from one being who understood her.

Her tears subsided as she stood up. She undid the clasp of her necklace and stared happily at the gleaming crystals. This was the only thing she had to think of him and it would do.

She brought the butterfly to her lips and kissed it softly, her quiet tears landing on it as she held it to her breast.

Christine remained like that for a few minutes before she returned into her sanctuary. As the door closed, the dawning of a new day shone brightly down at Paris.

TBC…


	9. Stranger Than You Dreamt It

A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! I know many of you want Erik and Christine to meet and it's coming up. Not in this chapter but soon I promise. It's worth the wait isn't it? Lol. But this should be an interesting turn and you are going to love it. Also, thank you to whoever submitted this into the C2 community! It's an honor to have this story in it. Thank you! And another thanks to my beta Megan!

Chapter 9- Stranger Than You Dreamt It

_Okay, now get up and do it._

Christine lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, and listening to the light snoring coming from some of the girls.

_Go on. Everyone's asleep. Just get up and go._

Easier said than done, she thought wryly. Carefully, without making a sound, Christine touched the cold hard floor with her bare feet, shuddering from the touch. She stood up glancing over at Meg's sleeping form before making her way over to get her robe.

Once she had it on, she took the nearest candle and lit it up. Grinning, she quietly walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind.

Using the flame as a guide, she moved down the halls until she slipped inside her dressing room. The clothes she made were still packed away safely. She pulled them out and quickly slipped them on. She looked up into her reflection, smirking at her image.

The black top clung tightly to her chest, exposing every curve, just cutting off above her naval. The pants she made were hip huggers and seeing the black to white and black made her appear like a gothic mistress. Her raven locks were hanging loosely down and it wouldn't do. She ruffled her hair with her nails, finally approving of the wild aura now being reflected. _Perfect._

Erik always liked that look on her. It made her ever so devilishly wicked and innocent when her brown eyes were set in a childish way. He could never keep his hands off her whenever she did that, which made it always fun to the singer. She loved the control she had over him and he to her. It always made their relationship interesting and fresh.

She picked up the candle once more and gathered the discarded robe and gown as she went towards the stage.

She walked out to the center, gazing at the vacant seats. This was the third time in the past week she was doing this and each time she had to be careful. The bad thing about the structure was the acoustics were meant to be heard quite well from wherever you stood. Even the quietest of whispers could be heard.

Christine moved closer to the stage lights and lit several of them. When the task was done, she blew out her candle and set it on the floor. Standing upright, she watched the shadows dancing around her feet before returning back to the center.

Closing her eyes, she could almost hear music softly playing as she came out to greet her fans. Everyone would be screaming and jumping up and down in hopes to catch a glimpse of Angel.

She rolled her head around and shook her limbs to relax a bit. After doing a few quick stretches Christine got down on her hands and knees. Lightly tapping her fingers on the ground to get the beat, she then slowly rose up and began swaying her hips slowly before she picked up speed, popping them out and rotating them in a seductive way. Her eyes were half-lidded as a wicked grin played on her lips. _Hit it_, she thought.

She rolled her stomach back, the muscles rippling as the music began a fast pace like a tango. Running her hands down her body, she gazed out to the vivacious crowd with a teasing pout before clasping her hands overhead and twisting about.

Feeling the energy exploding she crossed her feet over the other as she moved forward and swung her left leg out, back dipping down. Coming up straight, Christine swung her hips as she flicked her left wrist over her head and ending it with a roll of her head and her chest sticking out.

Her body was growing hot but she ignored it even as sweat began to collect over her flushed countenance. Splitting down with her legs out, she slowly crawled to the front with her hair sticking to her face and arms. Leaning her weight to the side, she glided her hand up her thigh across her stomach and out as she made her up.

Finishing, she ran out and skidded on her knees, her head down. At this point, the people would start screaming hysterical and some would start throwing flowers or for the guy's case their boxers.

She looked up and smiled to the imaginary group before shifting her eyes towards Box Five. Once she started dancing, she couldn't help but get the feeling she was being watched from above…

* * *

Erik couldn't sleep. Nothing seemed to put the restless man at ease. He tried working on his _Don Juan Triumphant _only to become flustered and spilling his ink bottle over the score.

Cursing, he cleaned up the mess and decided to do some reading. Reading usually calms his nerves…

But whatever he was reading he couldn't concentrate. His mind has been all in jumbles after he found those footprints by the mirror to Christine's dressing room.

Only he knew how to maneuver through the infinite halls without getting lost. Anyone who dared to venture through the Phantom's domain would no doubt get confuse and lost within seconds. And he **would **know whether or not if someone trespassed. But this person seemed to know it as well as he does and it worried him greatly.

As soon as those tracks were found, Erik set to work in making sure his traps were still working and making some more sensitive to capture the intruder. But to his disappointment, he caught a few rats and a cat.

If someone knew how to penetrate his labyrinth, then it would be a matter of time before his home would be discovered. He shuddered at the thought of being captured once more and being put on display. But with the death of Buquet recently, he might end up in prison or worse-- his own life taken at the expense of his crime. But he couldn't let that happen! Not when he has a chance to be finally loved…

_Christine…_

And the unsettling feeling he was getting in the pit of his stomach was that someone was watching her too. The thought gripped him in mad jealousy that there was another taken by his angel. Well… not his angel per say but to a certain extent she was. And picturing another tempted of his Christine's innocent beauty sent him in murderous rage. He would **kill** anyone whoever dared to lay eyes upon her virginal flesh. Let the consequences be damned!

And that was what kept him at night. Christine, oh sweet pure Christine!

He could see her sleeping, dreaming of nothing but happiness with no worries or fears marring her angelic features. The tranquil feelings of being safe while another stares hungrily at her, raping her with their unsettling lustful eyes.

"No!" Erik cried suddenly, afraid at this very moment that is what was happening at that second.

He grabbed his mask, slipping on, while he headed down to the rooms. By the time he was there, Christine wasn't in her bed; panic and complete dread filled his senses already conjuring the possible horrendous scenarios taking place.

He turned back and went through a hidden trap door to move freely in the opera house. It was late and everyone was asleep so he had to fear of being discovered. The first spot he checked was the little chapel then to her dressing room but Christine still couldn't be found.

For some reason, he decided to go to Box Five.

Once he reached his private box, he tried to stifle the gasp that flew from his lips.

Down below was Christine wearing an unquestionable outfit that showed much of her pale skin. Erik seen her plenty of times in scanty clothes that revealed her taut stomach, but this time with the black clinging to her curves and the flames illuminating her creamy skin, his throat became unbearably dry.

She seemed to be waiting for a second before she got down on her hands and knees. Slowly, she was standing up and moving her hips. Her promiscuous dance started to leave Erik's blood burning and his heart racing. _What is she doing! _he mentally shouted, trying to ignore the heat spreading through his loins. He tried willing her to stop so he can stop the inferno raging within him, but she continued to flaunt and stretch her body out in different positions.

He sunk low in his chair and watched the private performance with a guilty mind. He shouldn't be doing this. He should leave. But he couldn't bring himself to tear away from this indulgence and the worst part was that he didn't want to.

Christine stopped and looked up to the shadows of his box, knowing about her sudden audience. Erik's face began to burn with crimson but scolded himself. She couldn't see him! She probably doesn't know that there was anyone else in this theatre.

But Erik knew she did and he left quickly.

* * *

"Show me please! I want to see what it looks like!" Meg begged.

Christine smirked, shaking her finger at her. "Not yet."

"You're so evil Christine!" Meg pouted. "_Please_!"

"Alright. It'll take me a few minutes." Christine said as she went behind the changing screen.

She emerged later wearing a baby blue spaghetti top that exposed most of her cleavage with her black pants with a matching blue sash as a belt. Meg's jaw dropped in shock.

Christine laughed at her reaction. "Shocking isn't it? I only ran out of material for the shirt so that's why it's so low. But it's normal from where I come from."

"It is?" Meg's childlike eyes were wide as saucers as she stared. "I… I don't know what to say but Christine would die if she wore that for a show!"

"Understandable. I know she wouldn't dream of wearing anything remotely like this, but you should be proud of your body and show it off. Word to the wise, some guys will react quite perversely if you were walking down the halls here."

Meg chuckled. "If you say so. But how did you manage with a corset?"

"Corset? Don't make me laugh!"

"You're not wearing one!" Meg cried in astounded horror.

"No way. This whole time I haven't. Have you noticed the difference?" At Meg's shaking, she grinned. "If you can't tell then what's the point? You have a small enough waist as me so for one day go without one. I dare you to."

"And if I do will you teach me some of your… what's it called?"

"Hip-hop? Free style?"

"Yes! Would you?"

"I don't know Meg… your mother."

"She won't know! And this I will keep my mouth shut! C'mon Christine."

She sighed. "Deal. But if you start crying for a corset, then you have to go the entire day without talking about the Phantom."

"That's too hard! How can I not talk about him?"

"Exactly." Christine smirked. "So do we have an accord?"

"Deal." As the girls shook on it, there came a rap on the door. Antoinette entered, "Girls, I—" She stopped as she took in Christine's apparel. "Care to explain Miss Dallas?"

"Meg wanted me to show her what kind of clothes I wear. That's all," Christine explained.

"I see. Let's hope it doesn't give you any ideas mignon," she spoke coldly. "I was going to inform you both that there will be a rehearsal in a few minutes and that's mean I want you on time Meg Giry."

"Yes Maman."

"Good. I'll be waiting outside for you just in case."

Meg was about to follow her out before Christine tapped her on her shoulder. "Ahem, Meg. Corset."

Five minutes later, the girls came out and went ahead of Antoinette. She watched as the two held hands while whispering and giggling to each other constantly. It made the ballet mistress smile. She was afraid that Meg wouldn't adapt to Christine Dallas and her strange ways, yet her daughter proved her wrong.

Though, Christine wasn't like the Christine she raised she still developed a motherly tenderness towards the strong woman. She went through so much in her young life and now here she was triumphing over it.

Antoinette noticed the change in her for the past few days and was glad to see her shining with happiness.

Apparently she must have had her revelation after _Il Muto _that inspired her to sing once more. Meg was enthusiastic that her friend was coming to be like her old self again, which meant similar to becoming Christine Daae. It was good to hear her voice after this long time being absent from Daae's singing.

Antoinette was a bit suspicious of how it came to be though. She tried speaking to Erik, but lately the man has been unattainable working on his new score before the new production would be announced for the next season. She knew little about his opera (which made her feel relieved) but she did know it would have Christine as the lead. Now that it appears she has returned to the music, Erik will no doubt want her to star in it.

She suspected he had a role in Christine's startling return, but the girl never spoke about him or anything relating to his tricks. Unless she was keeping it a secret…

And if Erik were accountable for it then she would have no regret in using her staff to club him in the head for going back on his word to her.

Antoinette couldn't use Meg to find out so she kept a close eye on the two and to her shock, Christine told Meg it was the mere surrounding that caused her to break away. Meg listened to her star struck as the brunette relayed the emotions that were stirring in her as she sang on the rooftop.

"For the first time in my life I know how it feels to be alive," she said. "I'll tell you Meg, I never sang like that before. Not even for Erik."

So Antoinette let it go. Perhaps this was her reason for coming here, but she knew there was more to do it than Christine knew herself! And if it came soon then the real Christine would be returned. But she kept the notion to herself, knowing if Meg knew of this, her spirits would be lifted that she would walk back in any moment. But that wasn't a risk she was willing to take.

She knew the Lord works in mysterious ways and she prayed that wherever Christine Daae was she was safe and waiting for the moment she can come back.

When they arrived, the other girls were gathered around talking immensely about the Phantom and his association with Buquet's death. Antoinette rolled her eyes and slammed her cane down for their attention.

"That will be enough chitchat about the Opera Ghost ladies. Now start your stretches and then we'll go over once more of your horrid display of the ballet from Act III." It was punishment all right for them, but Antoinette would have none mistakes anymore.

"Madame Giry?" piped up Odette. "Could Christine lead us in our stretches instead? They helped the last time and—"

"Very well." She cast a look over to the sheepish Christine. "Christine?"

"Yes ma'am."

Christine stood in front of them and began. By the time they were almost finished, Carlotta came storming out her face flushed and red.

She brushed past Antoinette towards Christine, pointing an expensive encased finger at her. "You! You worthless whit!" she spat.

Christine looked up at her blankly. "Excuse me Signora?"

"Don't go 'Excuse me Signora' dearie!" Carlotta snapped. "I know it's you who is trying to ruin my career!"

"Signora!" cried Firmin with Andre trailing behind. Both were terribly upset as the diva. "This is surely a joke of some kind!"

"No it is not!" the Spanish diva screeched. "I will not leave so this tart can take over!"

"She doesn't sing! You have no replacement," reminded Andre.

"What is going on Messieurs that you must interrupt my rehearsal?" interrupted Antoinette, a bit peeved that she was being disturbed.

"Your Phantom wants me to leave!" Carlotta bellowed. "I will not follow such commands. And I don't care if this leads to another ACCIDENT!"

"She doesn't sing Madame! The Phantom must know this…" Firmin's voice trailed off as Carlotta threw him a deadly look.

"Yes she does," Meg said, who right away was given the same glare from Christine, her mother, and Carlotta.

"I'm sure she's horrible!" scoffed the Prima Donna.

"That's it." Christine stood up and defiantly stared down at the sniveling soprano. "I'm a whole lot better singer than you'll ever be. I bet a trained toad can do better than you!"

"You take that back!"

"No. Everyone knows it so why are you the only one denying it? Can't you tell from the way everyone plugs his or her ears your singing is wretched? Just because you're a leading lady it doesn't give you the right to boss everyone around. That job is pretty much reserved for the owners or in this case the Phantom. They all have the power to dismiss you and if you don't want that then shut up and do what is asked of you!"

From Christine's bold outburst, everyone gasped. Firmin and Andre were proud that Christine recognized their stature, even though she included the Phantom.

Carlotta's bosoms heaved, as her face grew redder by the second. "You don't talk that way to me! You're a chorus girl! You don't know anything about singing!"

"Is that a challenge I hear?" Christine sneered, her brown eyes glowing dangerously. "If so then I'm willing."

"I would win anyways," the diva huffed. "I'm the opera's star thank you very much!"

"Status won't help."

"I don't need to be challenged by a two-faced ballet rat."

"Are you backing down? Sounds to me you know you're going to lose." Christine smirked.

Carlotta's mouth dropped, her upper lip twitching. "So… what do you do in this 'challenge'?"

"Any song of your choice with dance as optional. Though I highly suggest dancing while you sing."

Carlotta huffed. "I don't need to dance to win. I have a beautiful voice and you got nothing!"

"I have the grooves Signora," she replied. "Do you?"

The diva ignored her and asked when it was going to take place.

Christine thought for a moment and said, "Here. Say in next week?"

Carlotta nodded. "I warn you little twit. You _will _lose."

"Maybe I will maybe I won't."

The prima donna glared at her insolence and left with the managers protesting.

Antoinette shook her head sadly. "Do you think this wise?"

"If she's anything like Caroline then she's going down," Christine spoke confidently. "I haven't lost with her. _Ever_."

Standing far off from the episode, a figure clad in black chuckled. "That's my girl."

* * *

"Christine do you really think you can win?"

"Of course Meg. Caroline and I do this all the time and she can never beat me. I have creativity on my side," Christine said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I have more of a background of different dancing styles I can used. I could be modest and innocent or sexy and devilishly."

"And that's good?" the blonde asked confused.

Christine nodded. "Meg, I'm not afraid to show off my body. I know it's improper in this time but trust me. I'm not totally going to dish out my true style. I'm going to keep it down to earth with some personality."

"Can I see what you're writing?"

She laughed. "Sure but it's not that thrilling yet. I wrote this one about a year ago and I figured Monsieur Reyer could play it. I noticed a lot of people are glad I'm doing this."

"You're the only one brave enough. If it was anyone else they would have been fired," Meg explained.

"Let's hope that doesn't happen, shall we?" She winked. "If there's one thing I know for certain is that sex appeal has its way and Carlotta has lost hers in the sands of time."

Meg shook her head. "You are strange Christine Dallas! I'll leave you to your writing."

"Okay. Bye Meg."

The dancer nodded and stepped out of the room only to bump into Raoul.

"Oh! I'm sorry le Vicomte!" Meg blushed. Then remembering about Ray, her features hardened quickly. "May I help you?"

Raoul was a bit taken aback at the sudden change of mood but didn't comment on it. "I wish to talk to Christine."

"I'm afraid she's busy at the moment, perhaps later," Meg retorted.

Before he could object, Christine's voice came through the door asking who it was.

Raoul, smirking, pushed Meg out of the way and went into the room.

Christine was sitting on her bed scribbling something. She looked up to see who it was and paled. "R-raoul! What are you doing here?"

"I heard about your song duel with La Carlotta," he told her. "And I wanted to wish you luck. I admit I never heard this sort of thing done before to straighten out differences."

"We're professional singers and the best way to settle anything is through our fields of expertise."

"Makes sense. I'll be looking forward it. I wish you the best Christine." Raoul grinned, bowing, and left.

Christine sat there in awe. Maybe he wasn't as bad as she thought he was. _But it doesn't excuse Ray_, she thought grimly before returning to her work.

* * *

Erik sat at his organ, pleased, with his opera. _It's almost done. And just in time to before the new season._

Erik had been working nonstop on it to get it done in time. He still had his heart set on Christine playing Aminta and this time he will not take no for an answer. But now, he believes Christine is ready to take on this role. He heard her singing and it was almost like having his precious angel come back to him.

Since that night he caught her dancing, Erik couldn't get her off his mind. He needed her more than he possibly thought. She was Aminta. She had her spirit and the attitude the character had.

He heard about contest with Carlotta and couldn't help but be proud of what Christine was doing. She had the guts to put the toad in her place and his Christine would have never conceived the idea let alone act on it. He hoped she would prevail so the managers will have second thoughts about their diva. This could be her chance to fulfill both his and Daae's dreams.

That is… if those fools knows what's best.

But Erik was confident in Christine's talents. It was just a matter of time when the city of Paris discovers her hidden talents.

He sighed. Despite how things seemed to turn for the better, he couldn't shake off the feeling of exposure. It still bothered him that someone had penetrated his home and he felt ashamed he hadn't found the culprit! It either had to be a figment of his imagination or the Opera Populaire had another Phantom he wasn't aware of.

Both pointed to insanity and Erik knew he wasn't mad. So what the blazes was happening?

He got up from the bench and paced around his lair. Ever since Christine Dallas arrived things haven't been making any sense to him. He felt everyone was in on some big secret and he was stuck in the shadows. Literally.

Erik hated not knowing what was taking place in his opera house. He made a mental note to discuss this with Antoinette. Perhaps his old friend would have a clue. It was a long shot but Erik was desperate to seek out the truth. And maybe put an end to his nervousness.

"Ahem."

Erik looked up, startled. _No! It can't be…. _He thought.

"There's something I wish to tell you… Erik."

* * *

Raoul walked along the halls of the Opera Populaire, still trying to figure Christine out. She had changed a great deal since they were children, for the worse or good he couldn't tell. She indeed became a spirited woman full of passion and beauty, he noted, but there seemed more to her now than before. He wanted to know this new Christine badly than ever once he truly got a good look at her during the "Note Incident". It was love at first sight and he wanted her all to himself, but the only obstacles standing in his way were the constant rejections and the damnable O.G.

Raoul thought the whole story concerning the Phantom was what it was. A mere story meant to scare the chorus girls and the superstitious stagehands, nothing more. His mind was quickly changed, however, when he received the first of many letters from the Phantom. All dealt with the same chilling command—stay away from Christine Daae.

Now his business with Christine was no one else's bit his own. And the writer of these notes had a lot of gull to get involved, which sent him ablaze. He and Christine were friends, they had a history, and he would be damned if anyone tried to stop him from loving her. And he did. Deeply.

He sighed. Alas, it seemed his Little Lotte didn't share the same feelings as he, but he could try to convince her he was her one Knight in Shining Armor. If only he wasn't put down by her or her friends. He couldn't understand why everyone wanted him to be far away from her. You think he was some serial rapist!

But he was a noble man for God's sake! He had an honorable reputation and his intentions were all innocent, except of the playing notion of marriage. But even that is innocent!

Now, if he had a promiscuous background he would understand the rejections. But he didn't. He was raised up well and his mannerisms were all gentlemanly. No strings attached.

Though, there was something bothering him greatly. It seemed whenever Christine looked at him, especially, during _Il Muto_, she wasn't looking at _him_ but another. Another that scared her.

But if it wasn't then it had to be him. Raoul tried thinking what did he do that would terrify her but came up with nothing. Not even when they were children! He was the perfect little gentleman, he recalled, from offering his hand to walk around and to opening the door and partaking in simple-minded childish games.

There was one time he _did _try to pull a prank on her instead it backfired on him. Christine had a cunning way of moving stealthy without being known. And that spooked him! So what could make her so ill eased around him?

Then an idea of her being in danger struck him. Could the Phantom have some influence over her? Could he have violated her making her think all men are beasts? And if so he wanted to kill the fiend.

Madame Giry insisted there was no harm that be felled Christine and for all she knew this Opera Ghost had never came in contact with her. It still didn't calm him down. He knew there was something wrong and he planned on seeking it out with or without anyone else's help.

He confronted his beloved at _Il Muto _and she assured him there was no danger. It made him rethink his theories about Christine. Maybe it had nothing to do with him or the Phantom, but her. That night he had a funny feeling he wasn't speaking to the Christine Daae he knew. And this duel with Carlotta confirmed his suspicions. Then again, it was silly to think it was someone else but Christine Daae! No person could look the same.

But it didn't do much to calm his erratic mind.

Raoul decided to seek out the managers to go over the plans for the upcoming Masquerade ball for the new year. As he headed towards the office, the Vicomte stopped abruptly when a low chuckle reverberated around him.

"Who's there?" he ordered, turning around looking for the source.

"_Stay away from her if you know what's best."_

"Who? Christine Daae!" Raoul yelled. "I can see her if I wish and no 'Phantom' can stop me!"

"_Lay a hand on her and I will kill you without hesitation."_

The threatening tone stopped him dead in his tracks and for a frightening moment, he truly believed that the Phantom would carry it out right now if he so desired.

Raoul waited. All was silent. _He must have left_.

The aristocrat trembled and made a hasty retreat to leave the building. A hand clapped on his shoulder before he could leave the doors and cried out. Raoul whirled around, the color draining from his face at who stood in front of him.

TBC…


	10. The Challenge

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "The Jewel Song" or "I Believe". "I Believe" belongs to Yolanda Adams and not me.

A/N: A big shot out thanks to my hip-hop teacher Miss Jennifer for the choreography and of course my beta Megan and to you lovely reviewers! I'm putting this up a day early because I won't be home at all tomorrow and I didn't want you guys to wait much longer.

Chapter 10- The Challenge

The day arrived much to Christine's delight. She spent the past week rehearsing her dance and song in her dressing room and secretly with Monsieur Reyer at night. No one else was allowed to watch, not even Meg. Meg hated the wait and it made Christine laugh to see the normal calm blonde all wound up.

She selected the black outfit she made and added a bright green sash from an old costume to put through the belt loops. She found a jacket she could wear over it so when the song picks up she could throw it off her as a shocker. Christine could only begin to imagine the looks she would get but it didn't bother her in the least.

Now that everything was in place all she needed to do was sing her heart's content and show Carlotta once and for all she's no common singer.

Other than that she did noticed a small change in Raoul. He was staying away on his accord and would politely smile and make small talk whenever they did ran into each other. But when they were together he did seemed to be on some kind of outlook for something or someone. She never asked him and he never said anything so she decided it best to let it be.

Christine assumed his change of heart must have been from the Phantom's threats, but there had to be something more to it. Why is he all of a sudden heeding the warnings? But she kept it to herself. Raoul maybe a nice guy but he was a little odd for her tastes.

On top of that, Christine started to have strange nightmares every night. A few times Meg had to wake her up because of her hellish screams. The brunette couldn't bring herself to tell her anxious friend they were about Ray. Like the one she had before, they all dealt with Ray beating on some poor girl.

But this time she saw _who _the girl was.

It was Daae. Every night when she closed her eyes the fear and pain came charging towards her and there was nothing she could do to stop them. There were countless times when the screams and cries from the girl caused Christine to snap. She had to help. She had to! But she couldn't. She would simply go through Ray like a ghost.

The only good thing about these dreams was that Christine never had to witness Ray forcing himself on the frightened girl. But it didn't stop him from hitting her. Hearing those wretched sobs haunted Christine. There was no escape from them.

At first, Christine honestly believed it was a resurfacing of memories of her and Ray. But she was beginning to realize they weren't. Despite how Ray made her feel, she would sometimes try to fight him but this girl wouldn't. She would let him take advantage of her and she would cry out for an Angel to help. Always an Angel.

Christine knew it had to be Christine Daae she was dreaming about. It could be of no coincidence. But she kept telling herself it wasn't. But the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach told her otherwise.

_What if it is Daae? She's an innocent! She doesn't deserve that treatment. If only I could help…_

Christine didn't confide this to anyone, not even Antoinette. She didn't want Daae's surrogate mother to know that at this very moment Daae could be getting a beating of a lifetime. But what if she was wrong? There was a chance it wasn't her and she would have caused Madame Giry to be distressed over nothing. She prayed it was the latter.

She had to push aside those thoughts otherwise she feared she would drive herself mad with worry.

To keep her mind occupied, Christine prepared herself so when Carlotta arrived they could begin.

They planned for it to be a private affair with all stage doors closed and locked with only Madame Giry, Meg, Andre, Firmin, and Piangi as the viewers. The patron, sadly, had some business to attend to and couldn't come. It was fine by Christine. She had enough support around and she trusted herself this will end in her favor.

"Christine? She's here," Meg said as she opened the door.

"Thanks Meg."

She smoothed out her outfit and pulled on the jacket. Smiling, she said, "Show time."

* * *

Carlotta waited impatiently, stomping her large foot, while loudly complaining to her lover Piangi. Christine and Meg emerged in time to listen to the diva this was a waste of her time and voice. Christine rolled her eyes and wondered, what talent?

Meg offered Christine a good luck squeeze on her hand before joining her mother in the audience. Monsieur Reyer and the orchestra sat in the pit, waiting to begin.

"Are you prepared to lose?" Carlotta crooned.

Christine smirked. "Nope. I'm prepared to win."

"We'll see."

"Ladies," Reyer interrupted. "Who shall be the first?"

"I will!" cried the Spanish diva.

Christine shrugged and went off to join Meg, waiting for the Queen to perform.

"Signora."

"Maestro," she replied sweetly, taking her position center stage.

Christine leaned over to Madame Giry and whispered, "Is she going to dance?"

Antoinette grinned. "No. Her majesty feels she can do without it."

Christine chuckled. "She's going to wish she tried."

The introduction started and at her cue, Carlotta screamed out:

_"Ah! Je ris de me voir_

_si belle en ce miroir,_

_Ah! Je ris de me voir_

_Si belle en ce miroir,_

_Est-ce toi, Marguerite,_

_Est-ce toi?_

_Reponds-moi, reponds-moi,_

_Reponds, reponds, reponds vite!_

_Non! Non! Ce n'est plus toi!_

_Non… non,_

_Ce n'est plus ton visage;_

_C'est la fille d'un roi;_

_C'est la fille d'un roi!_

_Ce n'est plus toi,_

_Ce n'est plus toi,_

_C'est la fille d'un roi;_

_Qu'on salut au passage!_

_Ah s'il etait ici!_

_S'il me voyait ainsi!_

_Comme une demoiselle,_

_Il me trouverait belle,_

_Comme une demoiselle,_

_Il me trouverait belle!_

_Achevons la metamorphose,_

_Il me tarde encor d'essayer_

_Le bracelet et le collier!_

_Dieu! C'est comme une main,_

_Qui sur mon bras se pose! Ah! Ah!_

_Ah! Je ris de me voir_

_Si belle dans ce miroir!"_

Carlotta dramatically fell to the ground, while a few politely applauded.

"Thank you! Thank you!" she said, blowing a kiss to her lover before moving to the side.

Meeting Christine's eyes, she snapped, "Let's see you try and beat that!"

Christine smirked and got up to take her place.

"Mademoiselle," Reyer said, grinning.

"Monsieur."

A piano began playing the first notes and Christine started off in the fourth position and slowly moved her arms in a circle as she sang the first verse:

_"They said you wouldn't make it so far aha _

_And ever since they've said it its been hard _

_But never mind that night'cha had to cry _

_Cause you had never let it go inside_

_You worked real hard and you know exactly what_

_You want and need so believe_

_And you can never give up_

_You can reach your goals_

_Just talk to your soul and say…"_

The music was soft as Christine sang and as she came at the last word, she looked up at Reyer and winked.

As the rest of them music picked up on a faster beat, she ripped off her jacket throwing it to the side. Everyone gasped as she kicked out her leg to the side throwing her arms down and swung her hips to the front as she continued:

_"I believe I can_

_I believe I will_

_I believe I know my dreams are real_

_I believe I can_

_I believe I will_

_I believe I hold it soon man_

_That is what I do believe."_

Christine went over to the side, clasping her hands over her head and swung them down as she collapsed to her knees. Flipping her head up, she slammed her fist down twice and brought her upper body up. She spun around, her legs crossing over the other, until she stood up with a little swing of the hips.

"_Your fools are just singing,_

_your soul aha_

_And you know that your moves_

_Will let them show_

_You keep creating pictures in your mind_

_So just believe they will come true in time_

_It will be fine _

_Leave all of your kiss and stress behind and_

_Just let it go_

_Let the music go inside_

_Again the pain_

_It just starts to believe…."_

Christine stood in the middle when the music had its interlude. Bending low, she walked as her right arm went out and in and turned to the right with her hands over her head. She ball changed and swung her leg to the opposite side and took baby steps around while flicking her hand over her shoulder until she swung the leg back to the left. She hop right-left-right-left and turned to the side by dropping down and jumped up, turning. Holding her arms out she stepped forward and slid to the right and back to the left, then pop out her chest while her arms circled around.

Even though the music was startling, she could tell it was meeting the approval of her strongest critic- Madame Giry. Meg let out a whoop when Christine started to sing the last verse:

_"At third my yet when people say Hold your head high and turn away _

_With all my hopes and dreams_

_I will believe_

_Even though it seems it's not for me_

_I won't give up,_

_I'll keep it up_

_Looking in the sky_

_I will achieve on my knees_

_I will always believe…."_

For old time sake's she clapped her hands to get the others to do so and to her delight they did. Even Piangi was getting into it much to Carlotta's disgust.

Christine leapt, skidding on her knees, and as she stopped she brought her arms up and slowly in as the last words left her lips:

_"I believe…. Yeah."_

All was quiet and the only sound was Christine's ragged breathing. Then one by one the applause broke out. Meg squealed out her name and jumped up. Christine beamed and bowed to them. She looked up at Reyer who had tears in his eyes.

Carlotta snorted her opinion and stormed out with Piangi following faithfully behind. It was obvious who the victor was.

Up in Box Five, Erik secretly joined in the mirth with a pleased grin on his obscured features. _He was right. After that anyone can believe…_

Far from where Erik was another figure, wiping his own tears away at seeing such passion on the stage. The angelic voice that she so long contained was now released in fervor became his undoing.

"My angel," his low voice choked before he spun on his heels to leave before anyone noticed him.

* * *

"It is she!" Raoul gasped in shock. His "business" wasn't his usual duties to his family, but an odd request from an unlikely source.

"Listen to her and watch carefully. You'll see the truth."

And he did. Raoul was torn between anger and sadness. He was upset that she led him to believing she was his childhood friend still. But he was also sad knowing she didn't confide in him the truth of her identity. He was trustworthy and his source told him she trusted him the most. So why did she keep herself hidden from him?

He left the Opera Populaire and on the way back to his estate, Raoul wondered if there was anyone else who knew whom this Christine was. _Most likely not_, he thought grimly but another voice told him otherwise.

The carriage stopped and Raoul quickly fled to his guest room where he kept his new companions hidden.

It was part of the bargain. An odd one as Raoul thought about it. He dismissed it, knowing his guest had his reasons for keeping himself and his lady friend safe. Raoul had not gotten a glimpse of her, but his friend assured of her extreme shyness around strangers and Raoul dropped it.

But there was a familiar feeling about her like he knew her from somewhere before.

The Vicomte opened the door to find the stranger staring calmly out the window.

Raoul couldn't believe he was doing this, even after the absurd story he heard about a week ago from this man. But he insisted he was telling nothing but the truth and the urgency in his tone for someone to understand made Raoul's sympathy gained the best of his senses. He told him he did and welcomed him into his home.

As the nobleman looked around he noticed the girl was nowhere in sight. He didn't say anything about it. Raoul figured his servants might be preparing a bath for her as his guest informed him of her constant pains in her sides. Hot water does the trick to soothe the aches and it seems she was always having one whenever Raoul pays a visit. He offered to send for a doctor, which was immediately declined.

"The pain is too much for her," he had said. "She refuses anyone to touch her, even a doctor. It just makes it worse and they eventually go away on their own."

The way he had said this to Raoul was a message of never bringing it up again, which he never did.

Raoul approached his companion and shifted his weight nervously. Whenever he was around him it was always awkward, but the fellow didn't seem to mind.

"She's there all right," Raoul, said to break up the tense silence. "I watched her like you said and her skills are not of like any dancer I've ever seen."

"Told you," came the mocking tone. "Does anyone else know that you can tell?"

Raoul shook his head. "But I _do _suspect Madame Giry and her daughter of possibly knowing. They are rather close."

"Good to know some things hasn't changed," the other sneered. "Is _he _around?"

"No. From what you told me, I have never met or seen anyone matching his description. Are you sure he's there?"

"Probably. I'll warn you though. He's dangerous and will hurt her when he gets near her. The bastard has already done enough damage to her these past months. I want her safe."

His last sentence sent chills down Raoul's spine. For a brief moment he wondered if he was dealing with the devil in disguise…

Shaking his head from such nonsense, Raoul went on: "I did what you asked to do. She's there and so far there's no trouble. Now, what do I get in return?"

The man chuckled. More chills went down his spine at the sinister emotion it held. "You'll get paid Vicomte for your services like I promised you."

"I don't want your money," Raoul exclaimed.

"No, no. It's better than that. I can give you the power of knowledge of what's to come and it's a far better payment than you'll ever get. And since you been so kind to me and my friend I would extend another source of gratitude to you."

"And what is that?"

"A wife."

"No thanks," Raoul retorted. "There's only one woman I would want to marry, but she's indisposed."

He smirked. "I don't think so. She's a lot closer than you expect, but I won't reveal just yet. Just take my word for it."

"I don't trust you, my friend. How do I know you're not lying?"

"I'm surprised by you. I thought you would trust me after what I told you before. But I understand your suspicions and I'll let it go. May I ask one thing—you do trust yourself right?"

"Y-yes I do," Raoul replied, confused at such a question.

"Then there's no problem in trusting me is there?"

He thought about it. He did make a good point. "I guessed not."

"Good. I know you're worried about your love, but soon your fears will be laid to rest once I get _my_ love back from that monster's sight."

Raoul nodded in understanding and berated himself for making his guest feel bad. He almost forgot about his predicament.

"Monsieur, I have housed you for a week now and I still do not know your name. Tell me there's no secret in knowing that."

The man smiled, a true genuine friendly smile, that Raoul's earlier accusations were left forgotten.

"Ray Chandler."

TBC…

Dun dun dun. Don't forget to review!


	11. Masquerade and Meetings

A/N: Here it is at last! The chapter you all have been waiting for! Erik and Christine meet! Face-to-face! Long suspense I know but wasn't it worth it? But it's not over. This has 3 more chapters left to go and they won't be disappointing. Thank you to all of my reviewers and my beta Megan! Now… on with the chapter!

Chapter 11- Masquerade and Meetings

-3 Months Later-

Christine was in higher spirits than ever since she came to the Opera Populaire. She was sad to see the season end, but at least Carlotta wasn't singing at the moment.

Ever since they're little "battle" Carlotta refused to admit her loss to Christine. If anyone asked the diva about it, she would simply say, "I felt sorry for her so I let her win." Those who were there knew better and everyone had a likely suspicion that Carlotta didn't let her win.

But Christine never gloated about it. She knew the hurt Carlotta must have felt losing to a mere "chorus girl" and never attempted to stop her from her lies.

Then there was Raoul. He was acting strange lately even more so. They talked more often and a few times they went out to lunch. The man was awfully nice and Christine felt guilty for her earlier harsh treatment towards him. The boy appeared not to have a bad bone in his body! Though it didn't exclude his odd behavior as of late.

He still acted as if they were being followed, checking their surroundings and always on alert. He was also bringing up the Phantom in their conversations and wanted to know more about him. Christine, of course, didn't have any answers to his questions but she assumed his interest of the Opera Ghost was due because of the managers. The Masquerade ball was approaching and they were worried the apparition would end up crashing it.

Christine has been to all kinds of parties, except a masquerade. Meg was shocked to hear this, but went on excitingly about the details and costumes. Before Meg was never allowed to go but this year her mother decided she was old enough to attend. Christine was happy for her friend and she had to admit the idea of dressing up to conceal your identity sounded like fun.

Then came the discussions of escorts. Henri, one of the young stagehands, had asked Meg to go and she was squealing for joy when she told Christine. Henri was quite handsome with a charming smile and pleasant aura. Christine had to admit he was dashing.

It was the eve of the party and everyone was in a hurry to get ready. The chaos ensuing reminded Christine of her prom back in her senior year. When it came to any dances at school she never had a date that asked her out on their own means. Meg was the lucky one and Christine usually ended up with an old admirer of Meg's who would spend the entire evening flirting with the blonde. And even now it seemed like that, only she didn't have one of Meg's boy-toys to tag along.

She didn't mind being alone. There weren't many people she would consider going with, but she decided if Raoul asked her to dance she would.

Her and Meg were in a rush to get ready. Already Antoinette was growing impatient with them.

"I told you to be ready minutes ago!" she snapped.

"Maman, we're almost done!" came Meg's voice.

Seconds later both girls came out giggling. Meg's blonde hair was pulled up and being held up by a large white feather. Her dress was a long snowy white gown with feathers outlining her chest and ending as straps. In her hand was her mask—a pearly white with golden glitter tracing the face in shape of a cat.

Christine came out in a pale pink ballroom dress with ruffles as sleeves and large bow at the back of her waist. Her chestnut tresses were pulled back by a flowered barrette with her ears being cascaded down with sparkling teardrop diamonds, borrowed from the costume room. Around her throat was the butterfly necklace that Meg whined about for her to wear. Her mask was black with tiny rhinestones around the holes for the eyes.

Antoinette smiled warmly at the two. They looked like angels in their glorious sound. And at noticing the necklace, she beamed at Christine. She knew the importance it was to her and seeing her now putting the past behind by wearing it made Antoinette proud of her.

Though the image ended as both began to snicker and smirk at Antoinette's outfit. The older woman went with her ever-present black dress with little gems and stones sewn along the sleeves. Her honey-brown hair was pulled up in a fashionable bun and her mask was creatively enough a fan with eyes.

"Let's go," she said.

* * *

All three came out on the stairs to the main entrance of the theatre. All the guests were dancing to the catchy tune provided by Monsieur Reyer and his band. 

In front of them were the managers and their dates, which Christine recognized as Mrs. Andrews and Foster. Carlotta and Piangi were behind the managers, which Antoinette noticed the singer throwing Christine a dirty look. But it didn't seem to bother the young girl for she intended to have a good time no matter what.

Meg grabbed her friend's arm, pointing and letting out a girlish shriek. "There's Henri! Oh he's so handsome!"

"Go over to him," Christine suggested. "He's looking right at you."

"Are you sure Christine? I won't leave you alone…"

The brunette shook her head. "Don't worry about me. Go and have fun with your beau. But don't go too crazy, okay?"

Meg giggled and ran off to join her date. Christine felt Antoinette's eyes on her and she forced herself to smile. She didn't want her to think that being dateless and all was affecting her. It wasn't. Just seeing the energy that was being filled with the dancers and the costumes reminded her of how much Erik would have enjoyed this. She blinked back the sudden rush of tears and tried to focus. _Don't think about him. Just go and relax. Yeah right._

Christine scanned the room looking for any familiarity for her to talk to when she settled on the newly arrived Vicomte. He was wearing a royal blue navy suit making him appear as a strapping officer. But there was something in his eyes that seemed to be troubling him and she wanted to know what. She crossed the threshold and went over to him.

Her arrival startled him and he offered a shaky grin. "Hello Christine."

"Hello Raoul," she softly replied, gazing up into his countenance. His attention wasn't on her at the moment, but on the dancers. Christine turned to see Meg and Henri twirling on the floor as an idea came to her.

"Would you like to dance, seeing that we both don't have a partner?" Christine asked.

Raoul blinked. "Huh? Dance… all right. If you wish."

"I do." Christine held out her hand waiting for him to take it.

Raoul cautiously did so and led her on the dance floor. The voice in his head was screaming at him, but he ignored it. All that matter was the beginning of a new song and the beautiful willing lady in his arms. He saw the necklace and cringed, remembering what Ray had told him. Though it didn't make any sense as to why she would wear something that her torturer gave her. He mentally shrugged to himself and moved them in time to the beat.

Christine swayed in his arms and she smiled up at him. Even though she loathed Ray she couldn't bring herself to share the same feelings for Raoul. She was a bit suspicious of him (that wasn't going to change) and his intentions for Daae, but since they were in a room full of people he wouldn't dare to try and do something.

She slowly began to relax, feeling confident in his arms, as he swung them around in a circle with the colorful costumes and masks as the music came to an end. Christine stared up in Raoul's awestruck bluish eyes when they suddenly warped to horror. She pulled away from him and turned where he was looking at and gasped.

By now the guests' attentions were captured by the newest arrival—a single man cloaked all in crimson save for a white mask in shape of a skull, covering the upper part of his face, standing at the top of the majestic stairs. She watched enthralled as he slowly moved down with the grace of a panther, his red trailer pouring from behind like… _Like blood, _she thought fascinated.

Her doe brown eyes finally settled on the rapier secured to his side. He looked absolutely… frightening, yet powerful and sensuous at the menacing presence he brought immediately.

"Why so silent good Messieurs?" He inquired, nearly purring, as his arms stretched out and the piercing icy blue eyes bored into the trembling Andre and Firmin.

"Did you think I have left you for good?" he went on, never faltering in his step.

Christine closed her eyes, his painstaking beautiful voice ringing in her ears that sent tremors through her body. She vaguely wondered if this was the Phantom, but her mind was thus preoccupied on that voice. It was so cool, harsh, and in control. He seemed to be taunting the mystified crowd but there was something else behind it that she couldn't put her finger on where.

A persistent tug on her hand ripped Christine from her thoughts back to reality. Raoul mouthed the words "I'll be right back" and quietly left. Christine didn't care where he went or if he ever came back. She was once more being drawn back into that stranger's voice.

"Have you missed me good Messieurs? I have written you an opera. Here I bring the finished score, _Don Juan Triumphant_!" He pulled out a dark case and threw it down the floor, its contents spilling out to the spectators below. His shining rapier was taken out as the Phantom went on speaking.

"Fondest greetings to you all, a few instructions just before the rehearsals start. La Carlotta must be taught to act, not her normal trick of strutting around the stage."

Carlotta took offense to his observation as her mouth was hanging open unladylike. The tip of his blade went up to her feathered head and tussled it when Piangi jumped forward to protect his ladylove. Instead, the sword was pointed at him, inches from his throat as the Phantom shook his head at him.

"Our Don Juan must lose some weight. It's not healthy in a man of Piangi's age." To prove his point, the weapon was now poking the tenor's large belly.

Turning on his heels, the Phantom smirked as he made his way over to the owners. "And my managers must learn that their place is in the _office _not the arts."

The blade was pointed at each of them with Andre nodding uncontrollably.

"And as for our star." The Phantom withdrew his rapier back into its sheath and locked eyes with Christine. The intensity of them overwhelmed the girl that any moment she expected to melt over their gaze. "Miss Christine Daae. No doubt she'll do her best it's true her voice is good she knows though. And now she has returned to her love for music I better expect her as Aminta."

_Oh my God! What did I get myself into? _She thought wildly. It hadn't registered yet that every word he spoke he came closer to where Christine stood. It was too late when she realized his hidden face was inches away from her own.

His eyes momentarily drooped down to her chest to see the necklace. Something unreadable flashed in his eyes as he reached out to gently touch the pendant. Her breathing stopped as she watched his face carefully studying the jewelry. He then drew up to stare deeply into her hazel eyes.

"You will sing for me. You can't deny it in your soul," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Her mouth dropped slightly as she recognized the voice from Box Five. It must have shown in her features, as his lip curled up in an arrogant smirk. Before she knew it, his hand snuck its way around her waist, forcing her up on her feet as his mouth swooped down and crushed her lips with his own.

Her heart stopped pounding as his mouth moved over hers, tasting what she had, before pulling back in a haughty grin. His once icy eyes were now burning with desire.

"You belong to me!" he hissed. He turned around from her and ran up the stairs. He turned back to face her before he disappeared with a puff of smoke. The people reacted at once, screaming even as Raoul jumped down after him.

Christine stood in shock as people pushed past her to leave the opera house. Her hand went up to her swollen lips, still tasting his kiss. _It couldn't be! Could it?_

She needed to talk to Madame Giry, but Meg's mother was nowhere in sight.

"Christine!" Meg called. The dancer and Henri ran over to the dumbfounded brunette. "Are you all right? He didn't hurt you!"

"I'm fine Meg… I'm—" But Christine didn't finish. She fainted dead away in her friend's arms.

* * *

"Clearly, Madame Giry, genius has turned into madness," Raoul said once Antoinette finished her story about the dealings of the Opera Ghost. With a determined visage, he moved to leave only to have the ballet mistress blocking him. 

"Monsieur le Vicomte you do not understand. To mess with him is your death warrant. I beseech you to stop any future attempts to foil him and to leave Christine be. If you value your life you will heed this warning."

"So Christine is in trouble? Madame, I would have thought that you would do more to ensure her safety. Isn't she, after all, like a daughter to you?"

Antoinette didn't reply. Growing irritated, Raoul went on: "I have a source that tells me the Phantom is one dangerous man that has brought pain upon her. You may think you're protecting a misunderstood creature, but he knows exactly what's he doing. I will put an end to all of this, once and for all."

"An end! Monsieur, you don't know what you're implying—"

"Ah, but I do! And you, Madame, know what I mean," he interrupted. "He's not just a murderer and a madman, but the master of manipulation. He has tricked you and probably other innocents without knowing. He won't stop until he's dead."

He forced his way through her, leaving Antoinette alone in her room. She closed the door and absentminded sank into her chaise. By the time she reached it, tears were coursing down her face.

_What have I done?_

* * *

Erik always knew there would come a time when he will be betrayed, but never did he expect it to be from Antoinette Giry. 

He heard everything what was said and felt no pity for her tears. The fact she betrayed him to that fop was unforgivable. He left her to her tears of regret, fuming over the situation.

_So the boy thinks I'm dangerous and a threat to Christine! He chose to mess with the wrong person_.

* * *

Christine sat up on her bed, looking out the window to the streets of Paris below, sighing. A week had passed since the masquerade and her kiss with the Phantom. 

_Or who claims to be the Phantom_, she thought cynically.

Meg came in earlier to tell her it was the anniversary of Daae father's death. Daae usually goes to the cemetery to pay her respects and recollect the past year to her father.

It was cold out and Christine felt she might as well continue on with the tradition, as it was the same day for her father's death as well.

She got up and headed out to the stables. On her way she heard some of the chorus girls talking about the latest opera.

Christine already read the script and found the plot wonderfully written. But the suggestive overtones in it made it unsuitable to the time period. Carlotta had been complaining about her lack of a role and demanded to play Aminta. The managers didn't comply with her wishes this time, in fear what the Phantom would do. It was his opera and he was in control of the casting.

Christine, believe it or not, accepted the lead role. She wasn't sure what she was getting herself into but she felt she had to do this role. Even though her experience of singing opera only extended to singing along CDs and her father's teaching. Monsieur Reyer taught her notes she was sure she was going to have trouble with and managed them perfectly. The score was obviously written sorely for her and Daae's range.

In all of the lyrics of the songs, especially _The Point of No Return_, held the hidden message towards lust, sex, and depravity. Christine found the tragedy of Don Juan and Aminta brilliant despite the frowns and disapprovals of the others. She had heard Firmin tell Andre this would surely cause destruction to the Opera Populaire.

"Where to Mademoiselle?" asked the heavyset driver.

"To the cemetery," she answered.

Christine went inside the stables to find something dress in warmly. While she was walking by, all wrapped up, she found a vase with roses. She grabbed a handful and made her way back to the hansom.

She hopped inside and leaned into the cushion as the carriage jerk with a start. The driver was covered up as well, more so than she. Christine shivered and pulled the cloak closer to her body.

Erik noticed the little movement as she tried to warm herself and fought the urge to jump beside her and keep her warm.

It was his luck he overheard little Giry tell Christine about Daae's tradition of going to her father's tomb. He was hoping she would go and she did! He briefly wondered if it was the same day for her as well as Christine Daae. She wasn't crying he could tell (or if she was she did a good job of hiding it) and he became overcome of emotions that she might be doing it in honor for Christine Daae.

Erik whipped the reins as the carriage picked up speed. It was in his favor that no one knew she had left.

* * *

Raoul tried to keep himself busy but failed miserably. His curiosity towards Monsieur Chandler's companion had been driving him crazy for some time. He knew by now he must have met her before but couldn't fathom where or when. Whenever he was in the same room as she, the girl was always hiding her face and refused to talk to him. He was hurt she wouldn't speak to him, but Chandler did tell him about her sensitivity towards others. 

As far as he can tell, she was about Christine's height and the same long, raven mounds of curls down her back.

When he stopped walking he found himself outside her room. His hand rested on the doorknob and as he went to turn it, he heard a faint sobbing.

Confused, he pressed his ear against the wooden door to listen.

"Angel where are you?" he heard her cry softly.

_Angel? _Raoul's head snapped up. _Is she sick in the mind as well?_

He was about to go in until a familiar voice stopped him.

"There you are Vicomte. I've been looking for you."

Raoul turned towards the stoic Ray. "Don't mind her. She's homesick as you can imagine," he explained upon seeing the distressed Vicomte.

"I don't think so. She was calling for an angel," Raoul said, his hands twisting behind his back nervously.

"An angel? The only Angel I can come up is her dog she had when she was younger. Terrible story actually. Angel had run off and never was found. Poor thing still can't get over that dreadful night."

Raoul couldn't believe his counterpart's coolness and serenity to his concern. He studied his face for any hints of falsehood, but found none. There was something horribly wrong occurring behind his nose that Raoul didn't have the power to find out.

"Also too, her father had died a year ago this day. She believes him to be her Guardian of Angel I suppose."

_Father's death? _Raoul vaguely recalled Christine telling him about her father when he inquired of the man's health a while back.

"This Phantom you told me about sounds like Erik. He was into that mystic stuff," Ray went on and paused. "You did say he kissed her right?"

Raoul nodded.

"Damnit! I was right! He does want her back! You have to go to her and find a way to bring her back here. She will only be safe that way away from that beast."

Hearing the urgency in his friend's voice, Raoul was on his way getting his coat. If Christine was in danger then everything else can be put on hold. He headed towards the door, but at the last minute went back for his sword. _You never know, _he thought grimly.

* * *

The ride to the opera house was quick and thankfully Raoul ran into Meg. 

"Meg! May I speak to Christine? It's an emergency," Raoul pleaded.

"I'm afraid she went to visit her father's grave. Why?"

Terror filled him. The cemetery? What if the Phantom knew as well?

"Meg, I need to borrow a horse now!" he ordered.

The blonde nodded, not sure what to make of the sudden change in the Vicomte, and showed him to the stables. Raoul grabbed the nearest horse, a snowy coat one, and took off bareback.

* * *

Christine was dropped off by the quiet driver and maneuvered her way around until she finally came to Daae's crypt. 

_Damn. This place is huge! Anymore walking and I would have left, _she thought. Christine made her way towards the steps and kneeled down, her cloak spread across the ground like a wilted flower.

Making the sign of the cross, Christine murmured a few prayers and finding the courage, she looked up to the engraved profile of Gustav Daae. Tears began flowing as she saw her father's resemblance on the stone markings.

"Oh Daddy!" she choked. "Why am I here? Why? Daddy I need you so much right now. I miss you and I miss him! I thought that everything would be fine if I escaped Ray, but it's not! I miss my friends, heck I even miss Caroline. And what of Christine Daae? If she's where I think she is, then it's unfair. She doesn't deserve it! She's an innocent! She's innocent."

Christine's voice was cut off as more tears spill to the snow-covered ground. She covered her face with her hands, dropping the bundle of roses at her side. She sat there crying for what it seemed like an eternity until a deep, rich voice call down to her.

"_Wandering child,_

_So lost so helpless,_

_Yearning for my guidance…"_

In her frazzled state, Christine thought it was Daae's beloved father calling her from Heaven, watching her from the top of the crypt. How should she answer? Or was it Daae's Angel? After what she's going through, she could use a heavenly being's advice right now.

"Angel or Father, friend," she paused as images of the Phantom came flooding in her mind. Could he have followed her? "Or Phantom?" she added, "Who is it there staring?"

"_Have you forgotten your Angel?_" the voice sang back, full of tenderness and sadness.

"Angel oh speak! What endless longings echo in this whisper?" Christine asked, a childish glee erupting in her at hearing Daae's Angel of Music.

_"Too long you wandered from winter._

_Far from my far reaching gaze…"_

"Wildly my mind beats against you."

_"You resist…"_

"Yet the soul obeys!"

_"Yet your soul obeys! _

_Angel of Music! _

_You denied me turning _

_From the true beauty of music._

_Come to your angel and_

_I'll protect you…"_

His powerful tenor voice cast Christine under its spell and she slowly began making her way to him… her Angel.

"CHRISTINE! No!"

Erik and Christine looked to see Raoul flying through the graves on a horse. "No!" he yelled.

"Raoul?" Christine asked, stunned.

He jumped off the animal, unsheathing his rapier, and fled towards her. "Whatever you believe, this man this thing is not your father!"

Christine was about to ask what he meant when she saw a black figure dart down at them. She let out a cry of surprise once both men started fighting.

Her mouth hung opened as they charged with sheer force and hatred with the intent of killing each other. Could the man all in black defending her be Daae's Angel? Christine couldn't see his face very well, but when Raoul knocked him to the ground she did.

"No Raoul! No! Please not like this!" she begged desperately, her eyes pleading with the Vicomte to spare him.

She could see the uncertainty in his features and pressed on to end this madness. He wanted to hurt him, for reasons she didn't know, but she wouldn't let it happen.

Christine held her breath waiting for his decision and to her relief, he backed away from his rival stowing away his sword. Christine glanced apologetically to the Phantom and then something clicked. Could it be…?

"Christine." Raoul called, urgent and tired. He helped her up on the horse's back and galloped off.

Erik couldn't believe that fop defeated him! And she had left him! He thought she hated and feared the Vicomte, but apparently he was wrong. He angrily whipped the snow off his cloak, breathing heavily.

"Now… let it be war upon you both!"

* * *

The trip back to the Opera Populaire was silent. Raoul figured after the ordeal Christine was still in shock, but he was far from it. 

Christine didn't want to talk to him; in fact she wanted nothing to do with him. Her face twisted in disgust as Raoul pulled her closer to him, his knuckles turning white from the hold on the reins. She had to fight the impulse of throwing him to the ground and returning to help the Phantom.

If she did then what were the odds of him accepting her help after she so cruelly left him to the harsh winter?

_But I saved his life! But it wouldn't matter. Erik would have pushed me away if I acted so foolishly like I did back there_, she thought unhappily. She couldn't get over how he looked like her Erik… her Erik! As much as she would have liked it to be him she knew it wasn't the one she fell in love with. This was Daae's Erik and she made up her mind long ago if she had met him she wouldn't let the same heartbreak happen twice. It would be best if she went to a convent.

By the time they reached the stables, Raoul began plying her for answers.

"Why did you go in the first place? Who was that man? Why did he try to kill me? Christine? Christine!"

Christine was walking away from him, but before she could get away he grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her back to him.

"Answer me!" he growled, his nails digging into her chill flesh.

_"Answer me you bitch!" screamed Ray before he flung Christine on the bed. "Fine! Don't answer but you'll regret it!" He told her as he began ripping her clothes off._

_"Why did you lie to me baby? Why? I was so good to you and you had to go and look for that bastard Erik. He's never coming back. Never!"_

_"Ray don't! Stop! Please look at yourself! This is not you!" she cried._

_Her answer was a full-blown slap across the face and him plunging into her helpless body._

Christine whimpered as Raoul's grip tightened and a loud sob escaped.

Raoul, realizing his actions were scaring her, released her. "I'm so sorry Christine!" he said softly, rubbing the redden spots on her pale arms. "I didn't- didn't mean to—"

"Go Raoul," Christine snapped. The tone in her voice surprised him and for a crazy second he wanted to hit her.

"I said, 'GO!'" she yelled and shoved him away.

"My life does NOT revolve around you! How dare you touch me? How dare you assume that that man would hurt me! Did it look like he was going to harm me? Like you, he was protecting me jackass!"

Her outburst struck a chord in Raoul. She was right. He assumed the worst and felt terrible about it. Then all of a sudden his temper flared.

He meant good! He could have been right! He was doing the right thing! She had no right to accuse him of his intentions. And her insult only aroused his anger more. She had no right to call him that name to his face! He was the Vicomte and in such title he should be held with the utmost respect and honor!

"Protect him all you want Christine!" he sneered, his blue eyes now darkening in his heighten fury. "But I will stop him! This reign of his has gone on far too long!"

And with that Raoul blew forcefully past her, knocking her down into a pile of hay.

* * *

"We have all been blind and yet the answer is staring us in the face," Raoul told Firmin and Andre. "This could be our chance to ensnare our clever little friend." 

The other day when Raoul returned to his estate, his anger had began to pacify. Mostly because of what Christine revealed to him.

_"Like you, he was protecting me!"_

And at the Masquerade, Raoul witnessed the kiss shared between them before the Phantom's disappearance. He spent the whole night contemplating what to do when he came up with a way to stop the Phantom once and for all by using his own opera as bait.

"We're listening."

"Go on!"

"We shall play his game. Perform his work but remember we hold the ace. For if Miss Daae sings he will certain attend."

"We are certain the doors are barred."

"We are certain the police are there."

"We are certain they're armed," Raoul said.

"The curtain falls. His reign will end!"

TBC…

Oooo. Wonder what might happen next?


	12. Don Juan Triumphant

A/N: Thanks again to my lovely reviewers! This story is sadly coming to the end, but this has been worth it. I know many are wondering which Erik it was at the Masquerade and this hints to who it was. Sorry I didn't get this up sooner, but I came back from camping yesterday and I didn't have time to get on. So here it is!

Chapter 12- Don Juan Triumphant

"Do you think it wise for you to go? I mean the both of you?" Raoul asked as Ray came out adjusting his tie. "You don't have to…"

"But I think we should. It's Christine's big debut! Do you think I'm going to miss it?"

Raoul shook his head dumbly. "I suppose not."

"And besides tonight is the big night you'll capture the Phantom! Then at long last I'll have my Christine once more." Ray was gloating with happiness that Raoul had never seen before. He looked like a man in love, which made Raoul's insides cringe.

"Is your lady friend ready?" he asked softly.

Ray was gone and merged with the girl on his arm. Her face was once again obscured from Raoul's eyes as she held on tightly to her hood to cover herself.

"Let's go," Ray demanded.

* * *

"Christine!" exclaimed Meg. "Are you sure you want to go through with it?"

"Do I have a choice Meg?" Christine sighed. "If I say no then Raoul will suspect a plot of some kind and so would Andre and Firmin. I can't that risk."

Meg nibbled on her lower lip. "Are you sure it was the Phantom at the cemetery?"

Christine nodded. "I'm positive. You're going to find this as a shock, but he struck the same appearance as my Erik."

Meg's jaw dropped. "You're saying that the Phantom of the Opera… **_the _**Phantom of the Opera might be Christine's soul mate?"

"He might be. I don't know for sure."

"But the Vicomte's plans! He will surely kill the Phantom and then Christine will never know her true love!"

"And that's why I'm going to prevent it, somehow."

There came a knock on the door and Antoinette entered. "Are you ready my dear?"

Christine looked over to Meg and to Antoinette. "Let's do this."

* * *

Erik returned to his lair once the final settings for the trap were set. He went over in his head once more what he was going to do and thought how it was a terrific plan for the Phantom to conjure.

"Seal my fate tonight," he grinned as he put on his Don Juan's mask. "I hate to cut the fun short, but the joke's wearing thin."

He knew about the Vicomte's plan to catch him from a liable source. And he did have his ears and eyes around the opera house. Nothing could get by him without his knowledge.

"Let the audience in." Oh yes, let them on this as well. Let them see that the Phantom of the Opera is real.

"Let my opera begin!"

* * *

"_Here the sire may serve the dam!_

_Here the master takes his meat!_

_Here the sacrificial lamb utters_

_One despairing bleat!"_

Carlotta's voice rang out, overpowering the chorus as she sang:

"_Poor young maiden, _

_For the thrill on your tongue_

_Of stolen sweets._

_You will have to pay the bill._

"_Tangled in the winding sheets!_

"_Serve the meat and serve the maid!_

"_Serve the master so that_

_When tables, plans, and maids_

_Are laid…_

"_Don Juan triumphs, once again!"_

The curtain from the back of the stage came opened as Meg and Piangi walked out. He threw her bag of coins as Meg merrily danced off the stage.

"_Passarino, faithful friend,_

_Once again recite the plan."_

"_Your young guest _

_Believes I'm you!_

_I, the master,_

_You, the man."_

"_When you met you wore my cloak._

_She could not have seen your face._

_She believes she dines with you_

_In her master's borrowed place!"_

"_Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff._

_Stealing what, in truth, is mine._

_When it's late and modesty starts_

_To mellow with the wine."_

"_You come home,_

_I use your voice, _

_Slam the door like_

_Crack of doom."_

"_I shall say 'Come hide with me._

_Where, oh, where? _

_Of course my room!'"_

"_Poor thing hasn't got a chance."_

"_Here's my hat, my cloak, and sword._

_Conquest is assured if I do not forget_

_Myself and laugh!"_

Piangi loudly bellowed with laughter as he scurried behind the curtain while the audience awaited the entrance of the talked about woman—Aminta.

Christine took a deep breath and made her way out and sang her first lines:

"_No thoughts within her head, but thoughts of joy._

_No dreams within her heart, but dreams of love!"_

Christine grinned mentally for hitting the notes exactly. Since the show started the people were amazed at the voice the young soprano possessed, probably wondering why was this talent was hidden for so long. She looked up to the seats and recognized Raoul in Box Five. He seemed to have friends with him as well, though they were seated in the back and she couldn't make out their faces. She shrugged, not caring actually about the Vicomte or his guests. They were of no concern to her.

Kneeling down, she fumbled with one of the roses while the rest of the scene took place behind her.

_"Master…" _

_"Passarino, go wait for the trap is set and waits for its prey."_

Christine was so busy with the rose that she hadn't realized the change in lead roles.

Erik smirked at the befuddled actors while keeping his gaze on Christine's backside. _This was it_, he thought.

_"You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge,"_

Christine stopped playing as her body froze when the dark seductive tone reached her ears. Never during rehearsal did Piangi ever sing like that!

_"In pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent, silent…"_

She turned slowly and gasped. _No… it couldn't be…_

His slender finger briefly touched his lips as his burning blue eyes sent tremors through her body. That voice! That voice for so long she dreamed of hearing sing once more to her and only to her…

_"I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge— in your mind you've already succumbed to me. Dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me—"_

_Yes I am, _she thought not thinking. She slowly rose, meeting those eyes with her own intense ones.

_"Now you are here with me: no second thoughts, you've decided, decided…"_

She inertly nodded allowing the seductive overture of the music grip her in its tantalizing fingers pulling her from reality and towards the man she so desperately loved. _Erik…_

_"Past the point of no return—no backward glances. Our games of make-believe are at an end…"_

He came stalking towards her, slowly and so painfully gracefully without skipping a beat. Christine's breath caught in her throat at the way his costume clung to his taut muscles, causing heat to spread through her body like wildfire. She was lost to the passion of the words and the man who sung them.

_"Past all thoughts of 'if' or 'when'—no use resisting. Abandon thought and let the dream descend…"_

She watched as he circled her, enraptured as his hand was brought up and slowly down, those stormy eyes not once breaking contact with her. All of a sudden he was behind, the calloused hand wrapped around her throat, his voice caressing her ear as he continued:

_"What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us…?"_

His warm hands flew down her arm, catching the lifeless hand as he soothingly rubbed it. He beckoned her to come and she did stuck in that enticing hypnotic trance.

_"Past the point of no return, the final threshold—what warm unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return…"_

He let her go making Christine remember she wasn't at her spot for her to start singing. She quickly went over still feeling those taunting eyes chuckling over the power he had over her. Christine wasn't new to his games and she knew just how to play him. Resuming her modest role, she adjusted her straps so they were covering her shoulders, and let her voice take on a deeper tone like the former:

_"You have brought me to that moment where words run dry. To that moment where speech disappears into silence, silence…"_

Christine happened to look up at Raoul and didn't like what she saw. He was already signaling to Andre and Firmin. The guards around were beginning to take their posts, their eyes set on the stage, waiting for the moment to capture the fugitive.

_"I have come here hardly knowing the reason why…"_

In truth, she never knew why she was here or why she was on this stage singing a part that was wasn't truly written for her. She supposed the spirit of Daae had her do it, which in that case she didn't have much of a choice but to follow.

_"In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent. And now I am here with you. No second thoughts… I've decided, decided…"_

She flicked her eyelashes at the Phantom, but that's not who she saw. She shrugged off the sleeves, exposing her creamy white shoulders, pride filling her at the sight of his wide eyes. She knew him all too well…

"_Past the point of no return—no going back now. Our passion play has now, at last, begun…"_

Christine made her way over to the spiral staircase, her lively brown orbs never leaving his as they ascended upwards.

"_Past all thought of right or wrong. One final question—how long should we too wait, before we're one…?"_

He paused, staring at her, his eyes glaze over in desire as she flung the suggestive lyrics across the stage.

"_When will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last, consume us…?"_

Christine reached the top throwing her lithe legs out challenging the masked man in front of her. He threw off his cloak as they both made their way towards each other singing the last of the chorus:

"_Past the point of no return, the final threshold—the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn… we've passed the point of no return…"_

As they hit the center, both clung to each other as he spun Christine around chest to back. Grasping her hands, he had them caress her body while purring the lines into her ears. Christine fell against him, taking in the familiar musky scent and sensations coursing through her. _It's him! My God he came back to me!_

Then softly, he started to sing another song, something she didn't recognize but the meaning wasn't lost to her.

"_Say you'll share with me. One love, one lifetime… Lead me, save me from my solitude… Say you want me here beside you…"_

Christine turned to face him, his hands holding onto hers for dear life, his azure eyes overwhelmed with love and hope as he belt out the last words:

"_Anywhere you go let me go too… Christine, that's all I ask of…"_

She had to see him. She had to tell him how long she waited for him that she never stopped loving him. Without thinking, she ripped off his mask.

Christine let out an audible gasp at his face. It wasn't like her Erik at all! No surgerical scars were on his face nor were there any overlapping of skin. His entire right side was scarring tissue completely red and his deformity continued all the way up to his scalp. Her Erik's deformity wasn't that extensive. She was crestfallen it wasn't the same man, but she held compassion for him anyways.

The love that once covered his façade was replaced with hurt and anger once the crowds below started screaming at the sight.

Ignoring them, Christine moved to hold him, but realized it was **he** holding her as he swung a blade out, slicing the rope that held the chandelier up. Frightened, she gazed up as the brilliant piece started to sway and plummet down towards them. Her mouth formed an "O" but no sound escaped. The next thing she knew the floor dropped from under her and they fell down, down, down.

Raoul jumped up from his seat as the two singers disappeared. He watched in mystified horror as the chandelier came crashing onto the stage.

"No!" he cried, helpless. He turned to Ray who kept a cool expression.

"We have to save her!" Raoul yelled. He flew out of the box with Ray and the girl following close behind.

He led them to backstage where Raoul caught up with Antoinette. He barely heard Ray mutter, "Of course."

"Where did he take her!" he demanded.

"I'm sorry Monsieur but I—"

"You will take us," interrupted Ray, in a tone used not to argue. Antoinette looked over to him, her eyes widen in shock.

"Don't be surprised Mrs. Gary or whoever you are. I knew you were involved in this mess."

Raoul glanced at him confused and rage. "This is not the time for chitchat! Madame Giry I beg you to please help me."

"Don't beg! She won't do it," Ray growled. He yanked on the girl's arms, ignoring her cry as he pulled out a gleaming object from his coat. The girl started to cry in hysterics, pleading for him to have mercy.

When it registered to Raoul what it was, he moved to stop him only to have the girl flung into his arms.

"You will take us or I'll put a bullet into that nosy head of yours," Ray ordered, his blue eyes piercing dangerously into the older woman's calm façade. His threat didn't seem to affect her.

"Okay, if not you then there's always that pretty little blonde of yours," he sneered.

"Maman!" yelled Meg from afar.

Antoinette snapped up to see her daughter struggling towards her. _No! Not Meg…_

"Come with me but remember keep your hands at the level of your eyes!" she explained, casting daggers at Ray. He was the one who hurt Christine. Now she hoped that Erik's talents would come to good use.

* * *

Christine remembered the duet, the gendarmes rushing to the stage; the unmasking of whom she thought was her Erik, and now she being dragged through the dark tunnels heading down. Her captor was cursing and mumbling to her, but the words never reached her ears. She was still in a state of shock and it didn't help much that this man… this man who looked like Erik, had Erik's temper was not him.

She let out a sob upset that it wasn't her love.

Erik mistook her cry for disgust and turned on her. The flames from his torch illuminated his deformity and madness glittering in his blue-golden speckled orbs.

"Why you ask was I bound and chained to this cold and dismal place! Not for any mortal sin but the wickedness of my abhorrent face!"

Her mouth fell open at his words but he didn't stop. Pulling hard once more on her arm, he continued to take her below from the world.

* * *

Antoinette trudged along the twisted corridors leading the three further than she ever been. Now if it were just Vicomte or Ray she would have taken them to the staircase that led down to his lair but would drop any victim to a watery pit. At least that was what Erik told her. Anyway, she wouldn't mind seeing Ray struggling in the water as the iron gate came down.

It brought a smile to her face though the gun was poked in her ribs, reminding her of her place. She wouldn't dare risk Meg's life. Herself, she wouldn't care. She led a fulfilling life and lived her dream of working at the Opera Populaire in the ballet. But Meg was too young with too much ahead of her. No, she would not attempt to put her only child's life in danger because of her pride.

She stole a quick glimpse to the Vicomte. She thought he was in on this, but now she knew he wasn't. It was obvious the boy was disturbed by what was taking place, yet he didn't do anything to overpower his counterpart. Though he did try to plead with Ray to stop, but Ray would have none of it.

"Keep going you old hag," Ray murmured, his weapon never leaving Antoinette. "Should have left your nose out of this otherwise this wouldn't be happening."

She had no clue what he meant by it but any response from her was cut off by a whimper from the silent being behind.

"Shut up!" Ray barked, his voice echoing throughout the caverns. "Vicomte keep her quiet! If you must then hit her, it usually keeps her mouth shut."

"H-hit her?" Raoul sputtered shock at his proposal.

"Yes," came the reply.

He glanced down at the girl, whose arm he was holding and back to Ray. "I… I can't. It's not right."

"Yes you can. And to Hell with what is right. I'm sure when you were with Christine you wanted to hit her plenty of times."

A guilty approach crept in his eyes and he lowered his head down to the floor.

"Let's get going!" Ray jammed the barrel into Antoinette's back and pushed her forward. The trek continued on with the only sounds of the their footsteps.

* * *

They were getting closer that she knew. _And hopefully this is settle once and for all_, she thought. Ray was proving to be much more difficult and dangerous as the seconds went by. The pressure of the gun on her back increased every step of the way and he would constantly yell at either the girl or the Vicomte. If neither of them were there Antoinette would have tried to fight back.

But seeing how little the Vicomte was cooperating she had not only her life to worry about but also his and the girl's.

She never had a good look at the young girl, for the most part; her face was being kept hidden from any attention. From the corner of her eye she caught a loose strand of a chocolate curl and stiffened. _It has to be her! Oh no! My poor Christine!_

The older woman was glad to at last find her, but consider the circumstances being excited was the wrong angle to take. She had to conceal her joy within and the worry of what she must have endured these past months. But the worst of it was that if she was stuck under Ray's power… she cringed at the thought of what the bastard might have done. He already ruined one strong woman and if he laid a hand on her adopted daughter, he would suffer Hell at the end of her own hand. Or from a certain Phantom.

_Erik, please, be aware of us coming. Be ready for what is to happen, _she prayed silently.

"Ray why are you doing this?" Raoul asked finally.

A low chuckle escaped Ray's lips. "Such a curious Vicomte! I did not know this little detail at all. But your answer will come soon enough once **_my _**girlfriend is returned to me."

Then it all sank in. "You? My God, you were the one…!" Raoul exclaimed, terrified and ashamed for being so gullible to believe in his lies and not follow his gut. "But why? Why go after her when she doesn't want you?"

Ray's jaw clenched angrily. "She didn't leave me if that's what you're implying," he scowled. "We had a fight, she went for a drive, and the next thing I knew she"-pausing to indicate the girl at Raoul's arm-"is at my door. She may look like my girl but I knew right away she wasn't. Mine knows better than to upset me on purpose. Boy I was lucky to put two and two together and voila here I am. And for your accusation… I never did anything that she didn't deserve, got it? He did hurt her and end of story. You've helped me locate her Raoul and now I'm just going to reclaim what is rightfully mine and you'll get your pay. Remember I promised you a wife? Well, there she is."

Raoul looked down at the trembling creature next to him, his eyes wide in surprise. "But…"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. They had arrived at Erik's lair.

* * *

When Christine was brought to his lair via boat and underground lake, she was shock and amazed at the size and atmosphere of it. It seemed… him somehow. Candles were placed all around and luscious curtains and carpets donned the domain. In the center was a majestic organ with more candles surrounding it. It was a kingdom for music.

"Why Christine? Why?"

It took her a few seconds to realize he was addressing her. She looked over at him. The harshness of his face had dissolved and was now replaced with confusion and pain.

"Why what?" she asked carefully.

He pointed to his gruesome face. "Why?"

She swallowed. How could she answer his question? _Um, I thought you were my boyfriend and I had to see your face? No, he wouldn't buy it probably._

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that. Honestly I didn't. I had to see who you are. Your voice… your voice I heard it somewhere from another. And that other… I… I had feelings for." Christine bit her lower lip and awaited his response.

"Feelings for?" he repeated. At her nod, he seemed quite skeptical. "Did he have a pretty face?"

Her mouth dropped; stunned that he had posed such a question. It hadn't occurred to her that he might inquire such a possibility that really was none of his business.

"For your information, I found his face to be quite handsome. He had such dreamy, intoxicating eyes and lips that tasted of Heaven. He was more beautiful than Adonis."

It was Erik's turn for his mouth to drop at her response. Christine smirked. "You wanted to know didn't you? But that's how I seen him. Others that are too shallow or pig-headed would say he was a freak or worse. That is if they knew what lay behind his mask. For the most part though, he had darling fans from all over because of his voice and music." She paused, wondering what he was thinking. Surely he didn't expect this type of confession. "I know who you are now," she added. "You're Christine Daae's Angel of Music and the so-called Phantom of the Opera. I know this because I sensed you always nearby. You've been there and I recognized you from the Masquerade."

"Masquerade? I wasn't…" his voice trailed off.

They heard some scuffling movement and out from one of Erik's passages came Ray and the others.

"Ray!" Christine gasped in recognition, noticing Antoinette as well.

Ray smiled at Christine and when he looked at Erik, his jaw opened. He never saw Erik without the mask, but he managed to hide his disgust well.

"Vicomte," growled Erik from behind. He went towards them only to stop when he saw a gun pointing at Antoinette. "When have you become so demanding?" It hadn't occurred to him that the real Vicomte was cowering behind Ray.

"Always Erik," Ray replied, the corner of his lips twitching into an amusing grin. "Come now. We're all adults here so let's get this settled. You have something of mine and I want her back."

_How in the world does he know my name? _Erik thought. Grinning broadly, Ray moved out of the way to show the true Vicomte de Chagny and the other hostage.

"I didn't know you had a brother," Erik jeered.

"Don't make me laugh. If I had a brother he wouldn't be it," Ray went on. "Move!"

He pushed Antoinette further in, holding the gun at her side.

Christine cried out, her eyes glaring hatefully. "Bastard!"

Ray smirked. "Darling if I only had a dollar each time I've heard that."

"Let her go Ray!" Christine pleaded. "Have a care for once. Can't you see you're hurting her?"

Ray looked down at Antoinette and sighed. "Fine. Have it your way." Taking her arm he shoved her forcefully at Christine. Startled, Antoinette barely kept her ground as she fell over.

The girl by Raoul broke free from his grasp and ran over to help before Christine could move. As she lifted the older woman up, her hood from her cloak fell off. She turned her face towards Christine and they both stared in wonder at each other.

It was like looking at a mirror, Christine realized, except it was obvious the girl standing in front of her was broken. Her curly chestnut locks were matted and lifeless, her doe brown eyes were blood shot with dark rings under each. Scratches and bruises covered her once flawless face. _So this is what I must have looked like before escaping Hell, _Christine thought angrily. How could he do this to her? She threw Ray a spiteful look while reaching out to help steady the shaken woman in the girl's arms.

"C-Christine?" Erik spoke in confusion.

Both looked up at Erik's bewildered visage. He glanced from one to the other in apparent shock. Then they settled on the real Christine Daae. His eyes hardened as he took in the fragile and battered state his angel was in. Hot white rage filtered his expression and murder danced in his burning eyes. If looks could kill both Ray and Raoul would have keeled over a thousand times.

"A-Angel?" the now unmasked Christine faintly whispered. "Is that you?"

The furious spell over Erik ended quickly as she called to him.

"Christine," he said softly. A smile flitted across her features as tears started to course down her flushed cheeks. It wasn't until then he realized his face was open to all to see, including his beloved angel. His hand flew up to cover his marred cheek, but already Christine headed over to him. She took his hand off his face and smiled lovingly at him.

When Erik went to caress her cheek she flinched, a whimper flying out. Erik pulled back and his murderous fury returned tenfold.

"How **dare** you **touch **her!" he roared, his voice bouncing off the walls increasing its volume.

Christine Daae burst in tears as Erik yelled and immediately he regretted from lashing out. But seeing her… so torn caused him to lose all control.

Noticing this sudden change of emotions, Ray couldn't contain his mirth. "Relax man. She'll be in good hands. Noble Raoul here wouldn't hurt a fly."

It took all of his will power not to rip his throat out. If his precious Christine wasn't there who knew what he might do in his rage.

Christine Daae turned away from him to cling onto Christine Dallas. Her cries were muffled in her shoulder and she did her best to comfort her. Christine felt her own tears well up but she would not let them fall for Ray's pleasure.

"Christine," Antoinette murmured. The girl yanked herself out of Christine's embrace to hold desperately onto her surrogate mother.

"I didn't mean to leave!" she sobbed. "I didn't know how to get back! He… he…"

"Shh, my dear. You're safe. You're safe," Antoinette whispered in her ear.

"For Pete's sake!" Ray groaned. "Raoul! You love Christine don't you? Fight for her!"

"You… you had her at my house the whole time!" Raoul exclaimed. "Y-you h-hit m-my Christine? My friend?"

"She needed someone to shut her up!" Ray shot back. "You would have done the same thing."

"Don't you dare say that!" Raoul shouted. "I will never hit a lady no matter what!"

"Whatever," Ray mumbled. He returned his gaze back on Christine, _his _Christine before meeting the eyes of Erik.

"Here's the deal. You give me my girl and Madame Gary or something can send us back where we belong. And you give the other to this poor excuse of a man."

"And what do I get out of his bargain?" Erik gritted between his teeth.

"I won't kill you."

Erik's head went back as he laughed crazily. "Then you _Monsieur _surely don't know what I am capable of! I will never give up either Christine just so she can go back to a life of abuse. And to _my _Christine she stays here with _me_."

"Want a bet?" Ray aimed the gun at his head, clicking back the hammer on the revolver. "You had your chance Destler and now it's my turn—"

"He's not the one you want Chandler!"

Christine Dallas looked up just as a figure emerged from the shadows. His back stood straight up, making his full height intimidating to a common man; the casual black outfit outlining his strength underneath. His long jet-black hair fell over his face, his azure eyes blazing menacingly. But the thing that made his presence more ominous to any being was the stark half white mask glowing on his face.

"I'm the Erik you want," he said, taking a step forward.

TBC…

Dun dun dun!


	13. The Butterfly's Return

A/N: Whoa, I didn't expect to get that many responses from last chapter:grins: Glad to know that the last cliffie caught everyone's attention. Sadly, this is the last chapter but the next one is the Epilogue. You guys had been wonderful in your reviews and I thank you all! Erik cookies for everyone! And some extra ones for Megan for the wonderful betaing job.

Chapter 13- The Butterfly's Return

Time had frozen once Erik Destler, the love of Christine Dallas's life, had emerged from his hiding spot. No one said a word nor made a sound as his eyes swept and scanned each flabbergasted person. But when they settled on Christine, his entire countenance melted into deep adoration and love.

"My God," she whispered, as tears started to slide down her redden cheeks. "You're… you're back."

She wanted to run over and kiss him and slap him. But Ray's deep chuckle brought her back to the reality of the situation.

"My my. I take it you became buddy buddy with your past life as well?" Ray said mockingly.

Erik smirked. "I see you did as well. Except I didn't have to manipulate mine with false promises and lies." Ray grunted in reply.

"Come on Chandler. I know you want to kill me so go ahead. Here I am." His arms were widespread, presenting a very welcome target.

Ray shifted from the unmasked Erik to the other before lowering his revolver. "Too easy," he muttered. If there was one thing Ray Chandler didn't like it was an easy battle. It just isn't fun when one won't participate in a fight.

Erik gracefully strolled over to Christine. Their eyes locked as both breathing came haggard. He raised a tentative finger to trace her jaw line, his thumb barely grazing her skin as he traced her lips. Tears of happiness started to well up in his blue eyes as his voice cracked. "My butterfly… you're safe."

The mood ended as a shot rang out. Ray stood with the gun hoisted in the air, glaring at the reunited couple.

"It was you!" he shouted.

Erik stood in front of her, blocking her from Ray's view with his intimidating height, as he grinned victoriously. "Would it have been anyone else?"

"Enough of the riddling comments! Could someone please explain what is going on!" Raoul spoke up, finally finding his voice over his shock.

Erik took pity on the hapless fellow. He was sadly another pawn in Chandler's little scheme. "It's rather interesting. But I hope by now you see this man is a liar."

Raoul glared at Ray before nodding. "I'm sorry I ever let you talk me into this."

Ray rolled his eyes. "Well, you were pretty desperate to win Christine over to be your wife. Don't blame me for your gullibility."

Raoul was about to fire something back when Christine's soft voice penetrated the tense atmosphere with the question she been wanting to know the answer to for so long:

"Erik, why did you leave?"

Erik swallowed. He knew it would be inevitable and he felt like a fool for the reasoning behind it. But before he could answer, the other Erik blew up.

"You LEFT her!"

Both Eriks stared at each other—the Phantom in disbelief and the future one in shame. "I know how it sounds but I didn't mean to. There's no excuse to it but at the time I wasn't thinking and I didn't mean for you to get hurt." At that he reached out to Christine, cupping her face in his large palm. "I'm sorry!" he choked.

Christine's hand covered his own. "But why? I don't understand… I waited for you and you never came back and Ray—"

"I know what **he **did. Mrs. Gary was the one who found me rotting away at my old apartment and told me."

"Yet you still never came back? Or call?" Christine couldn't help her voice from rising. Now that he was here in front of her the anger she kept in was now reaching its bubbling peak. "I can't believe it! I was stuck in his Hell for months and you knew what he was doing! You never came to rescue me!" Her fist flew out connecting with his jaw. The blow stunned him (along with everyone else) but he maintained his ground. He rubbed the spot where she punched him and sighed.

"I admit I deserved that," he spoke quietly. "But I only left because I thought you didn't love me anymore. That you found Ray's company better than mine."

"What?" she asked in disbelief. "What could make you think that Erik?"

"Later that night after our fight, Ray stopped over. He told me how you were growing weary of me and that the hiking trip was a romantic getaway for you two. He felt awful for me that you hadn't told me yet and he felt 'sorry' for me. I was still upset over our fight and after hearing that my whole world crashed beneath me. I thought he was telling the truth and feeling like a complete loser and a has-been, I decided to save you the trouble from breaking the news to me and leave. I couldn't bear to but I wanted you happy and it seemed Ray did just that."

"Oh Erik," Christine whispered. "But you believed him! I don't know what hurts more you gone or believing the guy who's wanted me for a long time. Didn't you trust me?"

"Yes I _do_ trust you Christine!" he cried. "I wasn't in the right mind and I'll forever regret that decision until the day I die."

"Shut up please!" Ray cut in, annoyed. "So what? That happened months ago and Christine is now _my_ girlfriend and she belongs to me!"

"She BELONGS to ME Chandler!" Erik thundered back. "You hurt her you son of a bitch! You're lucky I figured a better way to get back to Christine without killing you first. Here it's over for you. It's out of your hands now."

"I don't believe it. There are two Phantoms?" Raoul exclaimed.

Erik chuckled. "Technically yes but not in the way you're thinking. He-" indicating to the unmasked Erik— "is the Phantom of the Opera. My suitor name is known as the 'Phantom' for I'm a musician. I guess I owe you an apology for threatening you earlier. I thought you were Ray."

Raoul's lip quivered as he replied, "T-that was you?"

"I don't care who threatened whom, I want to know is why was Christine hurt? Both in fact!" cried the true Erik.

"Yes," Antoinette piped up once Christine Daae had calmed down. Her eyebrows furrowed angrily at Ray. "How dare you lay a hand on either of them! What had they ever done to deserve such treatment?"

To her surprise, Ray burst out laughing. "I have a right to be upset when _my _girlfriend cries over the jerk who left her. **I **was the one who should have had her the whole time and not **_him_**! I'm the one who has known her whole life, the one who knows her secrets and dreams. Me! Not some masked pianist who thinks he can charm my girl into his bed!"

The part visible on Erik's face turned beet red, his fists clenched tightly to his sides. "Me? I'm to blame? Oh no Chandler. She loves me! Me not you!" He faced Christine, boiling from Ray's words. "And for contacting you. I did… I tried. But somehow they were always intercepted and sent back with another handwriting telling me that you moved on. I'm forever indebted to Antonia for explaining it all to me. I was able to take you away from him and his abuse."

"Yeah only to put another in her place!" Ray spat.

"I didn't know that would happen! Neither did Antonia! I'm sorry Erik but if I had to do it over again I would just to be with my Christine again," Erik cried, desperation and shame creeping into his tone. "I didn't know I would put your Christine in harm's way. I never would have meant for it to happen…"

Christine Dallas sympathetically raised her hand to touch his quivering shoulder. She cast a glance over to Daae who nodded, an understanding passing through them. "Erik," she whispered. "It's all right. We… we both understand and you're not at fault."

Helplessly, he gazed into her warm, loving eyes and wanted to fight back. But he kept his tongue and relished in her soft touch once more.

Pleased with herself, Christine stepped back and knew this was it. If she didn't right now do something who knew what Ray might do in his jealous rage? She finally had Erik come back to her and she wasn't going to lose him again. She would fight for him… even die if she had too. Ray had been her tormentor for too long and it was time he got back what he deserved.

"Ray, I'm not going back with you. Do to me what you wish but you will not threaten or hurt any of these people or Erik." She flexed out her chest and raised her chin. "I'm no longer afraid of you."

"Christine!" Erik hissed. "Stop it! You don't know what you're doing."

She ignored him and went over to Ray, her eyes not once leaving his or the gun. _If I can just distract him long enough…_

"That isn't going to solve anything," she said. "Ray you don't need me. I'm sure there's another there for you. So stop spending your time on chasing me. I'm not worth it. Just accept that I love Erik and I want to be with him, please."

Everyone held his or her breath, waiting for Ray's next move. He stared at Christine who kept searching for the man she once knew. The good kind-hearted man that would end this mess by seeing how absurd this had gotten. "Please," she repeated, her voice ever so softly.

For a moment she thought this was it. He was going to give up. She saw it in his eyes and just had to wait…

_If only I can get to my Punjab lasso, _Erik thought, stealing a glance to where his coils of rope were discreetly hidden. _If only I can…_

"Erik," Antoinette murmured, loud enough for him to hear. She shook her head, plainly telling him to forget it. This was Christine's battle and so far it looked like Ray might accede. But it didn't matter. This man not only trespassed on his home but also hurt the one thing he cared most about the world. His troubled expression couldn't escape his façade and timidly he felt a soft smooth hand encasing around his own.

Stunned, he looked down into the beautiful depths of Christine Daae's eyes. She seemed to sense his eagerness to take part, but smiled at him graciously for holding his ground. _They're both right_, he thought in dismay. _This is not my fight. As much as I would love to strangle that handsome boy's scrawny neck._

Christine wasn't sure how long she held her breath, but eventually she released it as Ray returned the revolver into his pocket. "Thank you," she whispered, relief flowing through her.

But he didn't hear her. Ray marched over to Erik, until they were practically face-to-face. "Listen pal, I'm not going to argue with you anymore. Christine is coming back with me and that's final."

Christine gaped at his words. _No! He…_

Erik stood there expressionless. In a grave tone, he sneered, "I don't believe so Chandler. Antonia won't certainly let you through making Christine comes back with me."

Ray scowled. "Then how would you possibly explain my absence, hm?"

"I'll think of something," he replied, his mouth quirking upwards into a devious smirk.

"Gentlemen please!"

Erik and Ray stopped bickering as Antoinette bravely stepped in between them. _If someone can't stop these squabbling children then I must_, she thought.

"Enough of your silly behavior!" she scolded. "Christine is not some toy to fight over. She's a human being and therefore should be treated as one. Let's pray that you both got that out of your system so we can settle this peacefully."

Erik looked away guiltily like a kid caught in the cookie jar, but Ray stood there stone-face and impassive.

"Will one of you explain yourselves?"

Erik's lips were set in a firm line, contradicting the amusement glittering in his brilliant cerulean eyes. "Ah, I believe you already know Madame Giry or Antoinette if I may."

Everyone except Ray stared in shock at her. Ignoring their looks, she nodded for him to continue.

"When my dear friend Antonia told me or rather suspect of Christine's trouble, I did try to get a hold of her. Ray returned all of my letters saying how she was fine and didn't want me bothering her I knew it had to be a farce. So I decided to take matters into my own hands with Antonia's help. Christine you have no idea how truly grateful I am that you introduced us because without her we wouldn't be here now."

Christine gasped. "Are you saying that the time traveling ritual actually works?"

Erik nodded. "That's how I was able to bring us here."

"Us? How can that be? Wouldn't I have to be there with you in order for it to work?"

"The necklace," Erik replied. "Ray had it sent back to me once you stopped wearing it. That was our link to each other and it was strong enough to go to you to lead you here back to me. When you were here I could barely contain my joy, but you were so self-drawn and upset I was afraid I would startle you more than make you happy. I waited out until the opportune moment arises and I was able to get that Erik to help me. I attended the Masquerade and I convinced him to kidnap you during the performance. When I realized Ray was here I was terrified I would lose you again. That's why it was so sudden. I knew I was taking a risk being transported to our past lives."

"Past lives? But wouldn't we coming here send them in our place?" Christine asked, confused.

"Yes but we were, well, I thought it would keep them here. Antoinette was able to keep my past life and seeing the Vicomte here as well from leaving. Something went wrong with yours but I didn't know until I saw you assuming the life of Christine Daae. I never would have thought she would be found on Ray's doorstep."

"She did," Ray cut in. "I knew it wasn't my Christine from the start. So I paid a visit to Mrs. Gary. You'll be surprised how being held at gunpoint can make a person do anything."

"You didn't harm her, did you?" Erik barked.

"No. Running into my past life was sheer luck. Now that's over I'm taking the girl."

"No Ray," Christine stated firmly when Ray went to get her.

"Christine," he gritted. "You're coming back with me now."

"No."

"Very well." Ray whipped out the revolver and pointed at Erik's head.

A shot echoed deafened by Christine's scream.

* * *

Meg didn't know why her mother left so quickly as she did with the Vicomte. She tried following them but the people fleeing kept pushing her further back she lost sight of them.

She heard Carlotta's distant cry and a storm of voices crying out, "Piangi's dead! The Phantom killed Piangi!"

_No! _Meg thought. _This cannot be happening!_

The fire from the stage began to spread rapidly, glass was shattering, and the roaring screams made it impossible for the blonde to escape. But she wasn't ready to part with the Opera Populaire just yet. Her main concerns were finding her mother and Christine and no one was going to keep her from her goal.

Luckily, she didn't have to guess where they might be. They were with the Phantom that she could bet her life on. She suspected her mother had dealings with him for years, but something must have happened that made him kidnap Christine.

She spotted a group of people with the police gathering to hunt down the murderer. _Should I? _she wondered.

She made up her mind knowing there was a chance the people she loved were in danger and hurried over.

"I know where his lair is at!" she cried. "Follow me!"

Without questioning her they followed the ballet dancer.

A long time ago Antoinette brought a very young Meg down the twisted paths until they came upon the forbidden underground lake. On the shore was a man who greeted her warmly and gave her a doll as a present. Despite how distant that memory was she always remembered that day for the image of a pale white mask stuck out in her mind.

Feeling confident in what she was doing, Meg led them to a secret door. _Please let this be right._

* * *

Silence filled the lair.

No one dared made a sound as Ray's unconscious body laid on the chilly ground, the gun no longer in his hand.

For a moment, Christine thought he was dead. But Erik's face told her he wasn't.

Blood covered his forehead from where he hit his head after the bullet ricochet from the wall and grazed his shoulder. His flaxen head was matted with his blood yet she could feel no tears for him. Yes he wasn't dead but seeing him hurt didn't bring on any remorse. Finally her eyes looked up to the dazed Vicomte, whose countenance was ghastly and his body trembled uncontrollably.

He saved Erik… 

It had been all too sudden—Raoul jumped at him, knocking Ray to the floor as the bullet was shot, missing Erik's head by a few inches. The bullet barely wounded him but the rock he hit his head on was enough to render him unconscious.

"I… I… didn't mean—" Raoul sputtered, his voice shaking so much it was hardly coherent.

Ironically, the only brave one to come forward was Christine Daae herself. She crept over to the unmoving form and pick up the discarded weapon. She inspected it with intrigue fascination before throwing it into the underground lake. Beaming with radiance of a heroine in battle, she floated over to Christine and embraced her warmly.

"He won't bother us anymore," she said with clear rapture. Looking over to her childhood friend, she bowed her head reverently. "Raoul, my friend, thank you. But like my future self here, I'm staying with my Angel, my Erik. I hope you understand."

Raoul's features fell but he did his best to show her he respected her decision. "There's nothing I can say, but I wish you the very best. And perhaps, we could remain friends?"

Christine's cheerful laugh echoed the stillness of the caverns. "Of course! There's so much for us to catch up on. But first—"

She stepped over to her Erik, tenderly caressing his deformed cheek. "I've always dreamt of this moment ever since I was a little girl," she whispered. "And you are just what you appear to be in my dreams. You're beautiful _mon ange _and if you'll have me I will follow wherever you ask me to."

A lump rose in Erik's throat, making speech incapable at the moment. He was trying to adjust to the fact she had chosen him! Him despite his face! She loved him! She didn't have to say the words. It was there shown by her face and actions. He wanted to get down on his knees and weep for whatever force brought him his angel. "Christine!" he practically sobbed as he pulled her to him, allowing his lips to touch her forehead.

Raoul watched the couple embraced and sadly turned his head away. It was clearly apparent that Fate wasn't destined to give him Christine like he thought. She deserved happiness after the horrible ordeal she went through, and he wasn't going to deny her that wish to stay with her angel. He was no monster like his future self. That he would make sure of.

Antoinette couldn't believe the joy she had at seeing the girl she grew to love as a daughter and the man who she had rescued as a boy were at last brought together. When Christine kissed his marred cheek, she couldn't hold back the tears falling down. _He's finally loved and by the right woman…_ she thought.

Christine Dallas and Erik tenderly watched the scene unfold, as it should be. Christine gazed up at her love as the other Christine so lovingly embraced her Erik. He smiled softly and kissed her forehead, his chin resting on her curls. He felt bad for the boy, but was proud that he refused to behave like Ray. If only he could take lessons from him…

His thoughts were interrupted as his mask was removed swiftly. Grinning devilishly, Christine pulled him down to meet her eager lips. "I love you," she murmured, once they broke apart.

"And I never stopped loving you," Erik said. "I hope you'll forgive me for my past actions. I never intended for any of this happen…"

"Well, hearing more of that might help erase the pain from the last nine months. And I can see some fancy expensive dinners and presents in the near future and—"

"I get it! Just as long as you'll stay and put up with my sorry arse," Erik teased lightly, nipping her earlobe.

Antoinette coughed getting their attention. "All right, I'm happy the two of you have found each other at last but I believe it's time for you to go."

"Already? But couldn't they stay a bit longer?" Christine Daae asked disappointed that her new friends had to leave so soon.

"I'm afraid not child. They had come here to be reunited and now time must be restored in its proper place and everyone in it."

Christine left Erik's hold and ran over to the couple. "I don't know what to say to you two, but thank you for helping me find my Erik. If it hadn't been for everything I might have made the wrong decision and I don't want to spend the rest of my life regretting it." She hugged them fiercely. "I know this may sound strange, but I feel like I'm losing a sister," she confessed to Christine.

"You always have Meg, who missed you terribly," Christine offered weakly. "But I know what you mean. You'll never be far from my thoughts."

She nodded, blinking back tears. "And you won't be far from my mine. Take care the both of you."

"You as well," Christine said, embracing her once last time.

"Ahem," Antoinette cleared her throat. She came over and hugged Christine. "I will miss you as well."

"Thank you for everything Madame Giry. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"You have. By bringing the two people I care most about together. Their happiness is all I need. And for you," she went over to Erik. "If I hear that you leave her one more time, be expecting a call from my cane."

Erik laughed. "I don't attend on letting her go. I learned my lesson for the last time."

Christine went to Raoul who seemed like the third wheel there. She hugged him her farewell. "I'm sorry for this mess. I only—" he began.

"I understand Raoul. Just continue to be a good friend to them. And I know you'll find the right girl one day."

He smiled. "Thank you."

She moved away from him to approach Erik, the Phantom. "I'm sorry we didn't have a chance to get to know one another, but thank you for being there for me and giving me my muse back." She stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek and hugged him. "I wish you and Christine the very best."

He choked back on his tears and nodded wordlessly.

Erik came from behind and shook his "twin's" hand. "Thanks once again for everything. I couldn't have done this without your help."

The other Erik nodded. "Thank you. There are no other words to express my gratitude for giving me Christine. I have to admit I thought you were lying to me that she would love me."

"Hey man, I've been down the same road too." Erik cast a glance to Christine. Taking her hand, they walked back over to Antoinette.

"Wait! What about Ray?" Christine asked, completely forgetting that he was there.

A groan came from him as he slowly started to regain himself.

"I'll send him back too. Just until he settles down so he won't go after you," Antoinette promised. "After spending a few days with me he'll be a perfect gentleman as before."

"And me," Raoul announced, coming from behind.

"Are you ready?" the older woman asked.

Both nodded. Christine knew she was going to miss the Opera Populaire and its inhabitants. They had helped her find her soul again and her heart. She looked over to Christine and Erik who appeared to be lost in their own little world, making her smirk. _Everything is where it should be, _she thought, laying her head gingerly against Erik's broad shoulder as the lair disappeared from their very eyes.

* * *

By the time Meg and the mob reached the Phantom's home, only Antoinette Giry and the Vicomte awaited them (Ray was hidden in one of the rooms).

They both quickly told the police that the Phantom and Christine had escaped by the time they arrived here. Accepting their story, the officers left to chase after the fugitive couple. The rest of the mob either dispersed or went to help the gendarmes.

Meg was solely upset to hear the news, but her mother told her that Christine Dallas was with her Erik back where they came from. And to their Christine… she sends her regards and once the mess dies down she'll return to visit her best friend.

Meg was happy knowing her friend was back and safe with the man she was meant for. She watched the Vicomte sadly as he went over to pick up what she assumed was Ray. She knew he had loved her friend but when time has healed he could move on and find another that is worthy of his heart.

As they were about to exit the lair, Meg bent down and picked up a conspicuous object near the shore. She picked it up carefully tracing the edging of the half-shaped mask.

TBC…

One more to go...


	14. Epilogue: A Year Later

A/N: Thank you everyone for reading this! This is the last chapter, I'm afraid, and I was glad to share this with you. I also posted the Prologue of my new story _The Promise _that I hope that many of you would check out. Thanks again for all of the support you guys! You guys are the best!

Thank you again to my beta, Megan, who spent a lot of time editing these chapters and putting up with the constant changes. Especially this last one. :Hugs:

And think everyone deserves a round of Erik-shaped cookies and rum! I'm feeling kind of piratey lately so drinks all 'round mates!

Epilogue- A Year Later

London, 1872

_"Are you sure you want this Christine?" Erik asked tentatively. "Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with my face?"_

"_Yes Erik," she replied, her voice not at all hinting towards regret. "I love you my Angel. Wherever you go I go to."_

It seems so strange that a year had passed since that night. But Christine never looked back or ever regretted her decision. All that mattered was the love in her life who needed her just as she needed him.

Though there were times when she missed Meg and Madame Giry desperately, it wasn't safe for them to make any contact with their friends. It was too dangerous especially when the search for the Phantom was still going on.

She also missed Raoul, surprisingly. But she missed the old Raoul from her childhood. After being with Ray Chandler and his Hell, Christine wondered if there was a Ray lurking inside the good guise of the Vicomte de Chagny. Thankfully, she will never have to know. But the "what ifs" would occupy her mind and her dreams during the night. The nightmares of living under Ray would never leave. She was haunted by his abuse and there were a few scars on her body that wouldn't heal properly. They served as reminders of what she went through and the possible life she would have had if she were with Raoul.

Erik was such a dear and he was very understanding when she needed his comfort on those nights. Now and then Christine would catch him in one of his despairing moods when he would put the blame on himself for having his Angel go through such pain. It didn't matter how hard she tried to convince him it wasn't, he carried burdens that she could never imagine why.

Since they fled the opera house, Erik and her went to London where news of the Phantom hadn't reached. Their marriage wasn't rushed as Erik was thoroughly convinced that any day she would snap out of it and decide she couldn't stand to be around a monster. But Christine made up her mind. She would stay with Erik.

But there left a great deal of things for them to discuss. Christine didn't know much about Erik and she was a little upset that he manipulated her into believing he was an angel sent by her father. When he explained, Christine couldn't remain angry with him. His motives were pure. All he wanted was to offer her some companionship in her lonely states, but as time went on… the rest was history.

Erik even went out to tell her a little about his past. There was more that he was still hiding, but in time Christine would wait until he was ready.

She also told him about herself, information she never told anyone not even Meg. She even told Erik about Ray and what happened during those months. Christine could see how it affected him, but she was so proud he kept in his anger for her sake. She hated to see him upset and sometimes his yelling would bring back memories of Ray. He didn't mean to scare her, but Christine was worried that this fear of hers would never let go. As time went on, her fears were slowly becoming allayed but they were never completely gone. They lurked on the surface and both accepted that those scars could never be taken care of.

After a half year of hiding and getting to know each other, Erik then proposed. Christine agreed wholeheartedly as there was no other man she would rather be with than him. But there came a problem as a surname. Erik never had one and his mother's name he refused to give to his bride. Christine suggested Destler to be their name in remembrance to their friends from the future. Erik thought it was perfect and they married in a small chapel in the country. It was a quaint ceremony but it meant the world to Christine. At long last she finally belonged to her Angel of Music.

Smiling contently, Christine laid a hand on her belly. Her life had been good so far. Erik was composing and selling his music so the world could enjoy his genius. He was growing accustomed to go without his mask in her presence and the past was forgotten. But there were times when she thought about Christine Dallas and Erik Destler. Whatever happened to them? Did they get back together? Did they wed?

In her heart, she believed that they were well and happy. After all she was happy with her Erik.

The best of all was the little secret she found not long ago. Tonight seemed to be the right night to tell her husband.

* * *

Paris, 2006

"Five minutes Angel!" called her assistant.

Christine grinned at her reflection before placing a hand over her belly. _Last show_, she thought happily, her eyes catching the shimmering of her diamond ring given to her by her husband. But not as beautiful as the shining butterfly on her chest.

_My husband… _The thought still made her smile. She couldn't believe it Erik and her had gotten married at last and it was only a few days ago she found out about the little bundle of joy coming.

Rising, she headed out towards the stage. It had been a good year, she reflected. She married the man she loved and she was now back again on good terms with Ray.

Madame Giry was right when she told them he would be a "perfect gentleman". A few days after returning to the future, he attended the AA meetings and anger management sessions. He apologized to Christine and Erik for what he did. He felt like a fool for all the damage he caused and he couldn't believe he allowed himself to get out of control.

Erik wasn't too sure about him, but Christine was just merely glad to have her friend back and behaving like the Ray she knew before.

She passed by Ray and Meg kissing and then Antonia Gary, sharing a knowing look. It was their little secret. Neither told Meg what went on and it was best left unsaid. Ray and Meg were happy together and no one wanted to jeopardize it. Especially Ray.

There were times though when Christine was alone she thought about her friends at the Opera Populaire. She missed Christine Daae, Meg, Madame Giry, and even Raoul! As much as she would love to drop in for a surprise visit, she knew it was impossible.

"Don't want to tempt Fate too much," Antonia warned her and Christine wouldn't want to dare it.

Christine began to walk by a darkened corner when a pair of arms reached out and grabbed her.

"Hey there Butterfly," whispered the all-too familiar husky voice.

"Hey yourself Caterpillar." She smirked.

Erik spun her around, sending his warm hands down her body. His lips playfully nipped down her throat, sending her in a fit of giggles. _My God! We just did it not only fifteen minutes ago!_

"How's my girl and the baby?"

"Both are doing fine. But it'll be awhile before I show."

"I can't wait to see your bulge," he joked, merriment twinkling behind his masked eyes.

Christine lightly smacked his arm. "Behave Phantom! I'm your sexy wife that you polluted to my many male fans dismay."

"I polluted you? Correct me, but I believe it was you who put it so bluntly, 'I want your child'."

"Erik!" she gasped.

"I love it when you know I'm right," Erik teased. "But as to your fans, well, too bad. You belong to me and I'm never giving you up without a fight."

"Aw, how sweet!" She pecked his lips. "My dark Phantom. I may belong to you, but… keep it up and I'm never having your children again."

"You may say that but you'll want me soon enough."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Egotistical aren't we?"

"You love it."

"I have to go."

He sighed before kissing her once more. "Good luck my Butterfly. Share your talent with those male fans."

She rolled her eyes and patted his arm. "You're my only fan I'll ever need."

Smiling, Angel ran out on stage to greet her screaming fans.

_I'm back._

The End

Please go check out my latest story _The Promise_! Thank you all for your kind reviews again!


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